


In Need of Washing: A Lilucius Marauderotica

by malfoycouture



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Arrogant Bastard!Lucius Malfoy, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Lucius Malfoy-centric, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 01:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8947999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfoycouture/pseuds/malfoycouture
Summary: Lucius Malfoy has never thought seriously about Lily Evans.  But even he can't help but notice that Lily wants someone to pleasure her and unfortunately, her boyfriend James is not equal to the task.  Lucius thus takes it upon himself, almost too successfully.  James feels threatened at first, but eventually turns to Lucius for help, which he renders, but only at a price.Professor Slughorn (our head of house, mind you), Severus of course, Potter and his vacuous band of Marauders: all are enamored with her.  This is particularly true of Severus, who, not to be vulgar, must believe quite fervently that Evans' intimate parts are flavored like Butterbeer, the way he comports himself.  Thus, because I count Severus as a friend (as much as Slytherins can be close to anyone), in the beginning, I had fully prepared to steer clear of her, even in the full knowledge that there was a larger chance of Hufflepuff winning the Quidditch Cup than Severus ever getting close to Evans' intimate parts, or any other parts of her for that matter.  I am, after all, a gentleman and an aristocrat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Arguably, this is an AU in that I fudge everyone's ages so they're all over 18 and thus legal, when in canon, Lucius is six years older than both Lily and James (b. 1954 vs. 1960 respectively). I've never written anything first person, nor in present tense and certainly not from Arrogant Bastard!Lucius Malfoy's POV, but sweet _Merlin_ , is it ever fun: I write Lucius with devious, finger-steepling, cackling glee every time. In any event, enjoy!

**I.**

I couldn't tell you what Severus saw in her. Or really, what anyone saw in her. At least, not at first. What I could tell you later is that Lily Evans has a series of freckles on her inner thigh shaped like the moon's crescent. How am I privy to such an intimate detail given my previous statement? Well, more on that later. Initially, I couldn't wrap my mind around the fascination with her, and I prefer to think not only that I'm reasonably clever, but that my taste is unparalleled in most things. Of course I've seen Severus' dark eyes track her movements and have sportingly attempted to see what he sees. I will allow that she's pretty enough, with her long, wavy auburn hair, green eyes, and sun-dappled skin. 

Unfortunately, her beauty is offset by the frightfully high opinion she has of herself, Gryffindor Prefect and all. As one of the Slytherin Prefects, I of course dislike her on principle and the feeling seems to be mutual. That is, inasmuch as I think she's an overstepping Mudblood, she thinks I'm a manipulative, prejudiced, evil, lying snake. I would also prefer to think that I possess enough self-awareness to imagine that to some extent, we're both correct. As to her self-aggrandizement, the people in her life, particularly the _male_ people, only serve to make the problem worse. 

Professor Slughorn ( _our_ head of house, mind you), Severus of course, Potter and his vacuous band of Marauders: all are enamored with her. This is particularly true of Severus, who, not to be vulgar, must believe quite fervently that Evans' intimate parts are flavored like Butterbeer, the way he comports himself. He positively pines for her around the clock and the more she finds contempt with him, the more hangdog and pathetic he becomes. Thus, because I count Severus as a friend (as much as Slytherins can be close to anyone), in the beginning, I had fully prepared to steer clear of her, even in the full knowledge that there was a larger chance of Hufflepuff winning the Quidditch Cup than Severus ever getting close to Evans' intimate parts, or any other parts of her for that matter. I am, after all, a gentleman and an aristocrat. 

I am not, however, so fastidious as to pass up the chance to wet my wand with a willing female partner, regardless of her blood status or general demeanor. Really, sex is sex: like a day spent flying high on Felix Felicis, even at its most mediocre, it's still rather good. Besides, with few exceptions, pureblood witches are notoriously haughty almost to the point of prudishness and believe you me, I should know. On the other hand, low-blooded though she is, Evans gives any of them a run for their Galleons, the prideful way she treats myself and the rest of the Slytherins, to the point that someone ought to take her down a peg or two. Also, Severus has started to edge me out of the Potions class rankings, which irritates me greatly and could make conditions right to blur my scruples with his Amata, should that possibility arise. Add in Potter's appalling lack of manual dexterity (shocking to me that he succeeds even marginally as a Seeker), coupled with his want of linguistic skill, and the makings could be there for a bit of adult diversion between myself and a certain female, base-blooded, Gryffindor Prefect.

**II.**

We'll start with Potter. He and Evans are seeing each other romantically, to the point that I'm fairly certain they're exclusive. They sit together in Potions, their heads bent towards one another as they work, smiling in that soppy manner of teenage couples (such as Arthur Weasley and Molly Prewett, as a particularly cloying example). Then, when Potter believes no one is watching, he slides his hand up the inside of Evan's thigh under her skirt, attempting to catch the Golden Snitch, so to speak. As I say, he _is_ a Seeker. 

When he does this, Evans licks her lips with ardent expectation and spreads her legs slightly to assist Potter's progress. And inevitably, Potter makes a bad job of it: going too hard, pushing too fast; in sum, being as overly eager with her as he is with everything else he does. Evans, bless her, tolerates his pawing at her as long as she can before angrily pushing his hand away while I roll my eyes. It's the typical, green-wanded mistake of the uninitiated on Potter's part, but neither of them ever learn. Honestly, Gryffindors never do; patience seems to be a foreign concept to them. They have none of it, nor do they pay attention to nuance or really to anything. Part of it is the short attention span of all Seekers; to be fair, Regulus is no better, easily distracted from most tasks by anything shiny and fast moving. In any event, when making these observations of Potter and Evans little does it occur to me that these aspects would turn out to be tremendously beneficial to me later on.

And so the scene plays out, day after day, and unbeknownst to the two of them, I watch from the bench one row behind. It's a wonder to me that Evans lets Potter's incompetent, groping fingers near her private areas at all, but one day, I divine as to why. Typically, I look away after she pushes Potter's hand back out from between her legs as by then the spectacle's over, but that day I allow my gaze to linger on her face. Her anger fades into a look of profound disappointment. This piques my interest as it indicates one thing and one thing only: she wants... _it_. Perfect, sainted Prefect Lily Evans wants someone to pleasure her, to make her moan and gasp and whimper with abject rapture. Put simply, the witch wants to come; her body, mind, and spirit all are begging for it and it's that look of frustration, of dashed hopes, and not anything lascivious that Potter is doing between her thighs that gives me my first, but not my last, Lily Evans-induced erection.

And it's not as if Evans isn't returning Potter the favor. Like Potter, I too play Quidditch, but unlike Potter, I play Keeper. Also, unlike Potter, I actually know what I'm doing with my hands. Admittedly, I'm off my game the day I discover the manner in which Evans favors Potter, and as I miss the Quaffle, it hits the left hoop at an odd angle, falls to the pitch, and rolls under the Ravenclaw stand. Maeve Pinchard, our foul-mouthed, petite captain, screeches at me to get off of my arse and go after it, seeing as I can't do anything else right. I explain to her the sun was in my eyes. She tells me that excuses are _like Garden Gnomes: they're ugly, useless little shites, and no one wants to hear them_ \--her words. I mutter something unkind about her under my breath and circle my broom lower, before touching down on the smartly trimmed grass next to the stand. 

I'm just about to stoop down to crawl under the faded navy and bronze fabric to look for the errant ball, when I hear voices. 

"Come on, Lily. Let me put it in your mouth. Please." It's Potter. I freeze, listening above and beyond the wind and the noise from my teammates' practice.

"No. Why should I?" Oh, Evans sounds annoyed; this should be fun. I feel a smirk pull at the corners of my mouth as I creep closer. They're under the very same stand my Quaffle has rolled under and not only do I need to get it, but being a concerned party, I of course want to eavesdrop without being caught myself. 

"Because you're good at it." Merlin, but Potter's petulant when he's hard-up. I hope I never whine like that when asking for head. Fortunately for me, most of the time, it's offered. 

A sigh. "And what are you going to do for me, James?" I almost laugh at this. _Very little, dear Evans,_ I think, _very little indeed._ Nonetheless, I feel a grudging surge of respect for her in demanding a little reciprocity. It lends credence to my belief that she's as horny as he is, possibly even more so. 

"Erm...I could...uh...that is..." Potter clears his throat. I sneak around the back of the stand and pull out my wand.

"Yes?" A crisp, impatient answer from Evans: this is obviously not their first go-around.

Potter mumbles something unintelligible. As quietly as I can, I put my broom down in the grass.

"What?"

"I could use my mouth on you?" _And there it is,_ I think, _Potter, your chivalry is breathtaking. Literally._

"You don't sound very confident." Now I let the smirk out before silently casting a Disillusionment Charm on myself. I wait, determined to time it perfectly. Fortune favors me with a gust of wind that ruffles the fabric and disturbs it just enough for me to slip underneath undetected. 

I close my eyes for ten seconds, allowing them to adapt quickly to the relative dimness before opening them once again. Potter and Evans stand about four yards away from me, facing off, both with their arms folded. I can see the Quaffle off to my left, close to the edge, and move towards it slightly, my eyes never leaving the unhappy pair. They're still locked in their stare down, each determined not to be the one to break first, another Gryffindor trait: insufferable stubbornness. All sounds from the pitch are now muffled by the fabric covering the stand, and all I can hear is the whizzing wings of the Snitch that Potter nicked and now keeps as a contemptible affectation. 

Potter sighs heavily and lets his arms fall back to his sides. "I'm just...not that good at it," he complains. _Ha,_ I think, _I_ knew _Potter would break first._ By the minute, this exchange is becoming more interesting than watching a Quidditch match in the pitch above us would have been. 

Evans sighs too. "It takes practice," she says through gritted teeth. "And if you don't want to do it, just say so. But don't expect me to reciprocate." 

I observe with glee as Potter adjusts his trousers where his erection has tented them away from his body and wipes his presumably sweaty palms on them. He's in a right state by the looks of it, and for a hair's breadth of a second, I actually feel sorry for him. He clears his throat again and looks down to where he would have to put his mouth on Evans' body, the junction at which her thighs meet, up that same skirt he had his hands in earlier that day. I can see his breathing speed up with anxiety and him wipe his upper lip not once but twice and swallow. By now, the tableau is starting to become painful even for _me_ to witness and I typically enjoy seeing Potter in distress of any flavor, particularly the flavor of--

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Evans sighs in disgust, cutting off my own thoughts. "Here." She kneels in front of him and waits. "Come on, I don't have all day. I _do_ have better things to do than service you." Potter's relief is palpable as I see his shoulders relax. He doesn't even give her his typical self-assured smirk, just frantically unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, as if afraid she'll change her mind. Above all of us, the Snitch darts in and out of the shafts of sunlight and glittering dust motes that make it through the holes in the concealing cloth of the stand. The Snitch catches these bright beams on wings that reciprocate faster than a human eye can possibly see, making a golden blur of them.

Evans takes out Potter's cock in a gesture that suggests long practice. Her look of annoyance changes to one of-- _is it longing?_ I wonder with no small amount of interest, _and/or is she imagining what it might be like to have that cock driven to the hilt into her waiting cunt?_ It's a compelling thought. Judging by this look from her compounded by Potter's inexcusable timidity, I seriously doubt it's something she's experienced, certainly not from Potter at any rate. If he's that squeamish about pleasuring her with his mouth, and that ineffectual at pleasuring her with his hands, I shudder to think what he must believe about pleasuring her with his cock. 

In any event, it's hard to tell as Evans strokes him and bites her lip, but whatever it is, her face softens and if nothing else, she actually appears to be looking forward to letting Potter take his pleasure in her mouth. If I were to make a wager, it would be that she's wondering at that damp, warm feeling building between her thighs. My own cock responds again to her face with its expression of desire as well as these lewd thoughts about Evans getting aroused by the idea of any cock, even Potter's. I know her look well, having seen it in other witches, and it's a look that usually if not precedes, then certainly anticipates the best sort of sexual congress, with each partner lost in the other, fingernails raking down backs leaving red trails, primitive and animalistic noises, and sweat and cum running freely. 

Still, Evans starts slowly, demonstrating the restraint typically reserved for a Slytherin and I count myself mildly impressed. She licks the tip of him, letting the point of her pink tongue tease his opening before running in a circle around the head. She leaves her hand on Potter while she does this, keeping it at the head and not moving, just letting her tongue probe into the tight space she's created between her hand and his erection. Potter groans and tilts his head back; it appears that this is something he particularly enjoys and honestly, who wouldn't? 

Evans now takes the entire head of Potter's cock in her mouth, before slowly closing the distance between her parted lips and the rest of Potter's body, letting go with her hand. He shudders as she takes him completely in her mouth. Evans keeps him there for just a moment, freezes, and for that moment, so do I, thinking perhaps I've somehow given myself away. However, her eyes are still on Potter's face and I relax upon realizing she's merely teasing him or perhaps giving him a moment to collect himself, because as soon as Potter tries to push into her mouth, she pulls her head back and adds a hand back in. 

Now she works on him with zest, sucking his cock and stroking him simultaneously. By now I too am rock-hard and I'd be lying if I said I don't wonder what it would be like to receive what looks to my eyes like a very competent blow job from Lily Evans. I know it's sure to occupy my thoughts the next time I engage in any self-abuse, which, thanks to witnessing this little event, shall likely occur later today. Evans moves faster now, and I can hear the wet sounds of Potter's cock sliding smoothly in and out of her mouth. She adds in another hand and now moves both of them in tandem, twisting slightly in synchronization with what her lips and tongue are doing. 

Potter's getting close by now, which means it's almost time to make my move. I'll be damned to Hades before I let Potter finish: the opportunity to cock-block him is just too good to pass up. _Besides,_ I think with approval, _as Slytherin Keeper, it's my sacred duty to prevent Gryffindor Quidditch players from finding satisfaction in any sort of round opening._ Merlin knows the selfish, smarmy, bespectacled neophyte doesn't deserve to spend himself in Evans' talented mouth anyway, not when she's exerting herself with no expectation of reward from him. I smile evilly. If I play my hoops right, Potter's testicles shall end up as blue as a pair of Cornish pixies. With the two of them distracted, I crouch next to the Quaffle. I watch carefully and when I see his abdomen contract and relax rapidly, I drop my Disillusionment Charm and throw the Quaffle against one of the wooden supports of the stand, making as much noise as I possibly can. 

The interruption is every bit as delicious as I had dreamt: they both start in surprise. Potter's cock comes out of Evans' mouth, which is still in an _O_ , now of astonishment. I duck as if just coming into the space under the stand after my Quaffle and stop at the sight of them, keeping my face neutral, at least at first. I then stand, letting my lips curve up into a smile as I fold my arms and lean casually against one of the wooden supports. For a moment, neither of them moves and I just allow their discomfort radiate over me like heat from a furnace on a wintery day and just as welcome. Eventually, I decide it's only right for me to be the one to break the silence: "Well, well, well...what do we have here?" I drawl. I then tilt my head to the side inquisitively. "Let me think...shall I watch, join in, or exit?" 

Once again, my behavior garners the exact reaction I'm looking for. Evans stands quickly and rounds on me, her face livid. "Get out!" she yells. She doesn't even brush off her grass-covered knees. 

I don't move a muscle other than to raise an eyebrow. "This is a public space," I say softly, determined to become quieter as she becomes louder, a charming psychological trick my father taught me. "And I'll take 10 points from Gryffindor for illicit sexual activity in said public space." 

"How dare you, Malfoy?" she screams, her fists clenched by her sides. Potter, for his part, puts his cock away and is seeing to his trousers, his face as red as his house colors, for once at a loss for words. Completely unaware anything untoward is going on, the Snitch now hovers near Potter's left ear.

"How dare _I_?" I ask, keeping my voice as smooth, hard, and polished as I keep my broom handle. "I'm merely enforcing the school rules. You're a Prefect, Evans; you of all people should understand that." I bend down and retrieve the Quaffle. "The pitch is for Quidditch..." I take a meaningful look at Potter's trousers with their dark spot from his pre-cum and Evans' saliva, level with my eyes as I crouch. "Not for other ball sports." I stand back up and brush off my green and silver robes before I lock eyes with Evans once again. "Aside from docking house points, which I consider to be a given, I'll overlook your infraction this time, because it's your first offense...at least that _I've_ caught." I punctuate this last by spinning the Quaffle and catching it, before looking at her once more. "But if it happens again, I'm afraid I'll have little choice but to report you to the Headmaster." With that, I turn swiftly and leave, not giving either of them a chance to get the last word, the solid thrill of success shooting through my core. This might well be the best day of my life.

Outside, in the warm May air, I sigh with contentment as I pick my broom back up. _That was indecently enjoyable,_ I think as I mount it and fly into the sunshine with the Quaffle under my left arm. 

I toss it to Maeve. "What the actual living _fuck_ took you so long?" she spits like an angry cat, a hand on her hip. 

"Just...looking for the ball," I answer with a smirk as I fly back to my hoops.

**III.**

Oh, but little did I know whilst playing the voyeur under the Quidditch stands that it was going to get better later that day, both in terms of enjoyment and indecency. After Quidditch, I'm starving and dirty, in need of feeding and washing both, and I see to my needs in exactly that order, stowing my broom and making my way to the Great Hall still dressed for practice. Technically, it's frowned upon, but first of all, I'm a Malfoy, second of all, I'm a school prefect, and third of all, I do enjoy the looks from the witches as I stride in, windswept and resplendent in my house colors, flanked by my fellow players. Nothing drops knickers quite as fast as Quidditch robes seem to, that is, unless your name is _Potter_ , apparently. 

I do see Evans and I do see Potter and I state it in this manner because, to my continued amusement, they sit on opposite ends of the Gryffindor table. I don't even try to curb the smile on my face as I watch Potter struggle to sit still. There's not a doubt in mind that he will be tossing one off shortly, unless it's too late. As I say, I did time my interruption flawlessly. Potter sees me looking and I maintain my gaze as well as my smile as he does a double take before glaring at me. I stare until he looks away, shifting on the hard wooden bench before going back to his food. 

For her part, Evans does not seem angry, although she does seem preoccupied. She toys with her fork and stares into space, her green eyes far away. I feel my smile fade as I watch her, wondering what might be occupying her thoughts and fervently hope that it's some sort of morally questionable, yet pleasurable fantasy. One of her friends finally breaks her reverie, making her jolt in surprise before smiling almost abashedly and going back to her dinner as well. Before too long, I see that capable mouth of hers form the words _take a shower_ and I know that is my sign to get going as well.

I'm not even sure what I plan as I head to the Prefect's bathroom on the heels of Evans. I still don't like her, but I am starting to find her more interesting and possibly even more attractive as well. Lest I am judged harshly for being shallow, because I did just see her take Potter's cock with her mouth and take it well, I shall disclose something. It's not just that I like being intimate with witches of any pedigree, nor is it just that I like to excel at anything I put my hand to. The truth is, next to nothing thrills me more than when these witches who have been generous in sharing their bodies with me enjoy the experience. Watching them come at my hands, my mouth, my cock, or some combination thereof is simply incandescent. It is for this reason that it offended my sensibilities as a man when Potter didn't do anything and everything in his (albeit meager) power to please his special lady friend Evans. This is particularly egregious in light of the fact that she was doing her level best to oblige him, and in a public place no less, putting herself at risk of being caught by, say, a rival Slytherin prefect, just as an example. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm starting to side with Severus when he says that Potter doesn't deserve her.

With this in mind, I trail Evans into the Prefect's bathroom. Being that there are only a handful of us, it is far more likely that one of us shall have the bathroom to ourselves as not, and a lot of Prefects avail themselves in the morning or late afternoon, not in the evening. The bathroom is separated by sex, but only by a small corridor and it is, at least to me, one of the best places in Hogwarts to engage clandestinely with the opposite sex, or the same sex if that's your bailiwick. Believe it or not, that's not what's on my mind tonight, at least, not with anyone else. Mostly, I want to relieve my own sexual tension in an autoerotic sense, and I want to see what Evans is up to. 

She does not see me as she goes into the girls' side. Thinking quickly, I pull out my wand and enchant the girls' and boys' signs to switch. I wait until I hear the shower start up before stowing my wand and following Evans in. She's in one stall with the frosted glass door closed so all I can see is her silhouette. I strip everything off and throw it in the communal laundry bin before starting the shower next to her. I make my own shower as quick as I possibly can, delaying my own gratification for just a moment. 

I step out and wrap a towel around my waist and before I even get a chance to dry off properly, I hear the sounds. Evans is trying to be quiet, but I know what I'm hearing, those little gasps and soft moans that tell me that I'm not the only one with the idea of satisfying my needs in the shower. I'm far more aroused than surprised, as it happens. Now, I may be a gentleman, but I'm also an opportunist and this one is far too appealing to pass up, not to mention ridiculously easy. I also happen to excel at NEWT-level Charms, so I take out my wand once more and cast Deobscura at her closed shower door. The frosted glass clears to my sight, although I know it still is opaque to anyone else who might catch a glimpse of it. 

_Is it wrong? Absolutely. Is it worth it? Absolutely,_ I think as Evans' figure appears suddenly before me. As I suspected, she is washing herself very, _very_ well, her hands lingering on her soapy breasts, cupping them gently before rolling her nipples between her fingers as the water runs down her skin in tiny trails that sparkle in the torchlight. She has a lovely body, freckled on her shoulders and the top of her breasts where the sun has touched her. Her breasts are marvelously full, but not so large that I couldn't fit them in my hands; I find this a very agreeable mental picture indeed and my cock asks me rudely why I'm not paying it the same sort of loving attention Evans is lavishing on her own sensitive parts.

I ignore the urge to touch myself in kind and watch, mesmerized, as Evans sits on the stone bench built into the corner of the shower stall and spreads her legs, her breathing already labored. It is in this moment that I notice the crescent of freckles, but only for a moment because Evans then runs her fingers down insides of her thighs before slowly spreading her labia apart. I sigh as silently as I can when I see her inner crevices and her clitoris stunningly exposed to me. _She wants a cock in there, too,_ the evil part of my brain tells me, as if I need reminding at this moment. My own cock twitches at the thought and its accompanying fantasy, sliding into that tempting pink cleft to sheath itself completely in her. 

With a shaky breath, Evans runs her fingers down her clit, smiling at the prospect of what's to come. Even thus distracted, she takes out her wand and points it at the shower head. " _Aguamenti,_ " I hear her cast, which is odd, because the water is already present in the running shower. However, she is more clever than I give her credit for as a jet of water from the shower deviates and sluices down her open labia, its flow concentrating on the responsive bud of her clitoris. 

She bites her lip and adjusts her rear on the stone bench so the water hits her just right. I smile as well; this is clearly something with which she has familiarity. As much as I'd like to stroke my impatient erection while watching Evans enjoy herself, I show a modicum of restraint as I have a much larger game plan in mind now. I'm also studying her; as it happens, you can learn a lot about a witch's secret ways of pleasure by watching her masturbate: it's one of those modes of cheating where everyone actually wins. Her head is thrown back now, her hips moving up and down under the current of water as she nears orgasm. I hold my breath as she inserts two fingers into her cunt and draws them in and out, no doubt introducing brand new sensations to her already aroused center. 

Oh, sweet _Merlin_ , I'd love nothing so much as to watch her come but now that I'm seeing her pleasure herself, I possessively want her next orgasm to come from me and thus belong to me as well. That means she shall have to remain frustrated for the nonce. Therefore, I do the same thing to her that I did to her bungling paramour Potter and wait until the last instant, when her body starts to tremble and her mouth starts to open in a silent cry, before I bang on the door with the flat of my hand. "Evans? Is that you?"

I drop my charm right after I see her startle in the most guiltily endearing way before she stands up violently and glares in the direction of the door. "Malfoy?!" She sounds enraged. Perfect. "What are you doing in here?"

I sigh loudly. "This is the gentlemen's side, Evans." I make my tone a mix of condescension and vexation.

"No it's not." Now she sounds unsure. I hear her wrap her own towel around herself.

Before she can go for the door, I release my own towel and hold it in my hand casually to one side. Of course I'm still hard and as Evans opens the door, her eyes immediately track to my rigid cock. The flurry of emotions crossing her face is priceless: initial shock, a split second of incredulous delight, a healthy dose of indignant anger, before finally settling on the profound, deep crimson of mortification. I'm sure part of her realizes that my current state should rightfully be attributed to my watching her getting herself off, but of course she can't say anything because that would implicate her as well. In other words, I have her exactly where I want her. Well, almost. Her eyes are still on my erection as if someone has placed a sticking charm there. 

"Evans, my eyes are up here," I say dryly, making a _V_ of my fingers and pointing them at my face. With deliberate slowness, I move my towel around my front, just covering my cock, all while still letting her see the rest of me. 

She's making a valiant effort to hide it, but I'm not a simpleton: she likes what she sees and now my ego is as aroused as the rest of me. I don't mean to boast, but I _do_ take care of my body. I do this for two reasons: first, because being strong and fast makes me a better athlete and second, well...because of the way Evans is looking at me now. I let her ogle for just a second more. "Can you _please_ turn around so that I can cover up?" I snap. 

Evans jumps, cringes and, if possible, colors even more. "Sorry," she says, turning around. 

"And maybe--oh, I don't know--go back to your own side?" I ask coldly. 

"Yes, of course..." she says, now completely put off. She gathers her things and before she exits, she looks at me, turns, and looks at me again, seemingly paralyzed with indecision.

I fix her with an unfriendly stare. She nods at me awkwardly and then goes over to the other side, which is thankfully devoid of other people. 

When she's disappeared, I smile in triumph. I turn the shower on once again, drop my towel and step in. Only then do I finally unleash my own pleasure with my hand and a liberal amount of soap, my task a simple one with the recent memories of Evans to guide me. Cock in hand, I come almost instantly with the picture of water running down her naked body and her sex. In my mind, she spreads herself with her mischievous fingers to welcome me as my cock plunges deep into her. _Malfoy,_ she would cry out as I brought her to the summit of her pleasure. _Malfoy..._ How sweet that would be...

**IV.**

I seize my opportunity the following day. We're sitting in Potions and it seems that Evans and Potter are back to being friends at the very least. Potter is judiciously abstaining from putting his hands on Evans, but for whatever reason, she seem optimistic and is laughing more, flirting more and touching him more. Then, I see her slip a note to Potter. Not one ever to be cautious, he unfolds it and reads it, and I watch him blush and look at her, eyes wide. _Really?_ he mouths. Evans' eyes sparkle in response and she nods, her lower lip between her teeth. 

I frown. It is imperative that I see what's in that note. With that goal in mind, I raise my hand. 

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Slughorn looks up from the open book from which he is lecturing, his chalk-wielding hand paused over the dusty blackboard. 

"Sir," I say, smiling humbly. "I'm terribly sorry, but would you mind showing the class the Thibault stirring technique you were describing just now?" I keep my eyes wide, all innocent interest. 

Slughorn beams at me. "Not at all, dear boy, not at all." He gestures for the class to stand and come up to the front of the room. As I pass Evans and Potter's desk, I nick the note from where Potter has thoughtlessly thrown it. Being tall has its advantages, one of which is standing at the back of a crowd and still appearing engaged with what is going on at the front, all while no one really looks behind them at what I'm actually doing. I use the time to surreptitiously read the note:

_James,_

_Meet me in the Prefect's Bathroom tonight at 8pm. I'll let you put it anywhere. The password is_ pine fresh. __

_-Lily_

Well. It's about as understated as a troll in a crystal ball shop, but again, she _is_ a Gryffindor. He is too, come to think of it; subtlety, like patience, is lost on the likes of him; probably best that she keep it direct lest he have no idea what's actually on the table. For my part, I do everything in my power to keep my thoughts from showing on my face, but my mind is unhelpfully letting me see all the possibilities delineated within that audacious second sentence. It's everything I can do to quash my cock's inconvenient enthusiasm. 

As slyly as I can, I get out my wand and make one quick but crucial alteration: I change _8pm_ to _9pm_. I then school my face to polite attention as I watch the end of Professor Slughorn's demonstration. On the way back to my desk, I put the note back where I found it. I then take a moment before class ends writing my own note:

_Lily,_

_I'm_ very _interested, but I would feel a lot better if you wouldn't watch me when the time comes, as it makes me nervous. Besides, it'll be so much more exciting. Looking forward to it._

_-James_

_P.S., I'm not going to say a word; I don't want my mouth to get me into any more trouble!_

_P.P.S., I've learned some new maneuvers that I think will surprise you._

I read it once, nodding with satisfaction. The note is sufficiently inarticulate, pitiful and earnest: it could easily come from the likes Potter. My plan admittedly is a gamble, but I'm pretty confident it will work. At least, that's what I tell myself as I drop it into Evans' bag as she is giving Potter a last minute stomach-turning nuzzle as Potions class concludes.

That evening, even though Slytherin does not have Quidditch practice, I go to the Quidditch pitch. Ravenclaw has just finished and is walking back up the hill, dirty, exhausted, and exhilarated, as they should be. They pay me no mind whatsoever as I go to the equipment shed and Alohamora the door. I rummage around until I find what I need and then I put it in my pocket and head back up the hill. 

I return to the Slytherin common room and try to study, but I look at the clock, waiting for the right time. I'm not nervous, not really, but still, I possess a certain restless anticipation. In the realization that I need to be slightly late, at 8:05, I close my book, put up my quill and parchment, and go to the Prefects' bathroom. The large bathtub is off beyond the showers and prefects usually sign up for a session, so as not to be disturbed. I see that Evans' name is down for the 8pm slot. I find the door closed and I can only imagine that Evans is already there and so I go in through the doorway and strip.

Before I enter the room proper, I get the item I need out of the pocket of my robes, encase it in my gently closed hands, and then open the door. I look around the partition and can see Evans already in the bathtub, facing away from the door. She is standing as deep as mid-thigh in the water next to the steps that lead into the water, the curve of her rear just above the surface. Her body and hair are already damp and she skims her hands over the top of the water, generating different colors of steam. I pause for just a moment, admiring her shape before I open my hands.

My purloined Snitch unfurls the delicate golden fronds of its wings before humming to life. It launches itself from my open palm to whiz off into the colored steam. As I planned, Evans sees it first. She turns, but I keep myself hidden. "I didn't know whether or not you'd have the nerve to come," she says, a teasing lilt in her voice.

I say nothing, just wait. 

Evans pauses for a moment as the Snitch darts around the high vaulted ceiling. "Ah yes," Evans says, as if remembering. "I'm not supposed to look at you, and you're not to talk." She smiles. "Very well, I can play your game." She closes her eyes and turns back around. 

I take that as my cue to move. Already hard, I approach her and slip into the water behind her, deliberately dunking underneath before surfacing. My hair is considerably longer than Potter's and if it's wet, it'll be far less likely to giving me away, as I can keep it behind my shoulders. The first thing I do is run my hands over her shoulders and rub them; immediately any tension there releases in a calculated move to put Evans at ease. She moans as I knead the meat of her trapezius with my thumbs. "That's lovely, James. Can you just do that instead?" Again, she mocks with her tone of voice, but it is gentle.

I stop immediately but keep my hands on her shoulders. 

"A joke," she says quickly.

I start back up again, and once more, she sighs with contentment as I work the knots out of her shoulders and upper back. I now move all of her abundant auburn hair over her right shoulder and lower my mouth onto the left side of her neck. I kiss there lightly at first, sliding my hands up and down her arms. She tilts her head to the side, giving me better access and I reward her by kissing her harder. Full of licentious curiosity, I wonder if she's the type of witch who likes her ears touched. I conduct an experiment in this vein by running my tongue up the side of her neck and using it to caress her earlobe before catching it gently in my teeth. She shudders and leans back into my chest. That's a definitive _yes_. 

Encouraged, I see Evans has left a bottle of liquid soap next to the tub. Not breaking my stride, I release one of my hands and avail myself. I breathe in deep: sandalwood and jasmine. I smirk at the obvious connotation, but I can't smirk too much as its heady scent is also buoying my own arousal. My hands now soapy, I run them around the front of Evans' body in a line with her ribs. I kiss her neck some more as her breathing increases. I move my hands up to the side of her breasts and back down again. I slide them up again and let my fingers just brush the bottoms of her breasts.

"Don't tease me, James..." she groans. 

I raise an eyebrow. If she thinks _this_ is teasing, she really isn't going to like what I'm about to do to her. However, because I need the facade to hold just a little bit longer, I cup her breasts in my hands, massaging them gently. She moves against my hands, clearly willing me to touch her nipples. I let her wait for just a moment and then move my slippery fingers in slow circles around her areolas, just barely hooking her nipples at each pass. She makes a noise of distress that seems to speak directly to my cock. "Please..." she says. 

I come off her neck so I can enjoy the view somewhat. After all, Evans shouldn't get to have all the fun. Her breasts fill my hands as perfectly as I'd hoped, and even though I'm barely touching them, her nipples respond to my ministrations by stiffening to tight peaks. Now, I roll them between finger and thumb, having paid attention to how Evans herself touched them, before caressing them with my index fingers, enjoying how they feel against my fingertips. It pays off like a winning Quidditch bet and Evans draws her breath quickly between her teeth in a hiss. "Yes..." she whispers. 

My cock, now indignant at its neglectful treatment, has managed to find the cleavage of her rear end. I take one hand off her breast and finally give it some attention, stroking it twice with my soap-covered right hand so it can slide up and down Evans rear and lower back. I can feel my own breathing speed up, but I am careful not to make any noise as it is still too soon to give myself away. 

At this point, because I'm largely there anyway, I slip my hand around the front of Evans, this time between her legs. Then, something passing strange happens. She looks down at my hand and her entire body stops moving, just for a heartbeat or two. Some instinct or intuition perhaps prompts me a warning: _she knows._. However, whether this is accurate or not, rather than turning around, slapping me roundly across the face, and calling me an ugly name, Evans eases her thighs apart slightly. Now, to my mind this is a pretty clear signal that she wants me to proceed, whether she thinks I'm Potter or not. _If it's the latter, that may be why she's being so accommodating,_ I think maliciously as I send my other hand down to join its mate. 

I don't go in right away: that would be too easy and it is exactly what Potter would do in my situation ( _Ooh, something shiny! I should throw caution to the wind and give it a go!_ ). At this point, I want to be clear that I'm not him, without shouting it in her ear. That'll come later, as shall she and hopefully, myself as well. I simply caress the soft skin where her thigh meets her pelvis and Evans sighs, but it's a tremulous sigh of arousal, not the annoyed sigh she gives Potter when he inflicts his over-eager and inept fingers on her hapless nether region. I smile in triumph, now convinced that she knows at the very least that it's not Potter and at the very most that's it's me: her hated, male Slytherin counterpart. 

I move my left hand over her labia and use two fingers to gently spread her. She sets her right foot on one of the steps coming out of the water, letting her thighs part even more. As she did the previous day, I run a finger from my other hand over the hood of her clitoris, very softly and she whimpers. I draw my finger back up and use it to rub her clit slowly. She rocks against me as I increase speed slightly, keeping my touch feather light. "Put your finger in me, James," she whispers. "Please." 

She runs her hands over mine, taking my place in spreading herself apart. I decide it would be easier to do this from behind; Evans seems to agree with me as she bends forward slightly, arching her back and giving me a scintillating rear view. "I'm ready," Evans says between breaths. I ease a finger into her cunt as she backs up against my hand. She's tremendously slippery with wetness that has nothing to do with the bath. She has now taken over seeing to her own clit, with one hand to spread herself and the other to rub herself into ecstasy. Taking my time, I pump my finger in and out twice as she quivers against me. "Don't stop," her voice comes out in a moan. I smile and start fingering her cunt like I mean it. I start out slowly, before increasing the pace as she keeps her own hands busy. "T-two...please" she gasps and my smile widens.

Only too pleased to accede to her filthy request, I slip a second digit into her next to the first, feeling her cunt stretch satisfyingly to allow my exploring fingers. She is panting now as she strokes herself faster. I move my other hand around her front once more, find her nipple and massage it between thumb and first finger, letting my other fingers drift over the still slippery, smooth skin on her breast just beneath. Evans lets out a high-pitched keen of bliss. She's now quite close. "James..." By now she can hardly manage the wrong name. I let my smile turn feral. The time has come to correct her. 

I don't let my pace slacken in the slightest as I put my lips mere millimeters from her ear. "I'm not Potter." I inject amusement into my voice. Her eyes fly open, and her hips now bump aggressively against my hand with her imminent orgasm. "What's my name, Evans?" I growl, now all business. "Say it or I'll stop." 

"James..." she whispers, a smile of vindication on her face as her eyes close. My jaw tightens as I realize I'm too late. I now find that I'm furious, but before I can pull out of her and punish the little traitor, her cunt clenches on my fingers and veritably bathes them with her cum as her climax overtakes her. She throws her head back. "James!" she screams as she finds her ecstasy at my expert, Malfoy hands.

**V.**

Spent, but still breathing hard, she drops her hands at the same time that I do, takes her foot off of the step and stands up straight. She then slowly turns around. Upon seeing me, her eyebrows shoot up, but I know it's an act. "Oh my goodness, you're right: you're not James," she says with mock surprise. 

I fold my arms in front of me. "Well spotted, Evans," I say acerbically. "What was your first clue?"

Evans pauses and narrows her eyes, as if thinking. "You're not as deft with your hands as he is."

Even I can't keep the indignation off my face at this grave injustice. "How dare you, Evans?" 

All traces of humor immediately leave her face. "How dare _I_?" This is starting to sound familiar. She now folds her arms in front of her, mimicking my posture. "That's rich coming from you, Malfoy."

"Well, I _am_ rich, so..."

She closes her eyes for a moment before opening them and glaring at me. "Shut up. You just took some shocking liberties with me, all while under false pretenses." I go to defend my besmirched honor, but she holds up a hand to stop me. "Don't bother lying to me." She shakes her head. "After that inspired performance with the Snitch, you acting as if you're the injured party is unbecoming at best, criminal at worst."

I sigh. She does have me there and this isn't a battle worth losing at the cost of the war. "What do you want, Evans?" I ask. 

She smiles once again, but it is less than kind. "Oh, I think we're done here." She speaks the words with insupportable conceit as she glances at my cock, which is still in the dark that we're actually finished and thus, is still hard and ready. 

"Really?" I ask through clenched teeth.

Once again her eyebrows shoot up. "Why, yes, Malfoy." She drops her voice to a whisper. "I _got_ mine." She winks. "Cheers for the handie." 

I fume. It was all going so well, too. Noting that Evans is still looking at me, I master my expression to one of icy contempt, but I fear it is too little, too late. 

"You're welcome to take care of yourself," she adds, gesturing at my cock. "You seem pretty well convinced that you're good with your hands." 

I chuckle mirthlessly at this. "No, actually, _you_ seem pretty well convinced that I'm good with my hands. Thus, I believe you owe me one, Evans."

Evans now is the one to glare at me. "By what possible calculation, Malfoy?" She doesn't give me a chance to answer: "You interrupted a private moment between me and my _boyfriend_ , and then..." She suddenly trails off as her face turns a fetching shade of scarlet. 

I smile. "Yes?" I draw the word out.

"Never mind," she mutters. 

_To Hades with all of it,_ I think. I tilt my head to the side in mock sympathy. "You're not upset that I interrupted a private moment between you and your _shower_ as well, are you?" I ask. "Come to think of it, you seemed more amorous with your Aguamenti than with your _boyfriend._ " 

Her face now drains of color. "You saw me?" Her voice is barely louder than a whisper. 

"I never suggested that," I reply loftily. 

She pauses for a moment, before looking at me in an calculating manner. It's obvious she's not buying what I'm selling, but then again, I never intended for her to and truthfully, I'm not trying that hard. "Well, then, Malfoy, it would seem that you owe me." 

"What do you mean?" 

A slow smile spreads over her face. "Well, you've seen me...now I need to see you." 

I'm at a loss. "What?"

She takes one more look at my cock. "Touch yourself for me. Right now." 

_I don't want to,_ I think. _I already did that last night, so it's not as if I don't know precisely how it goes._ "Surely you jest," I say, keeping my voice light, now that Evans has regrettably turned the tables on me, I'm starting to feel uncomfortable and vulnerable, which I detest. This is not at all how I pictured the end of my evening.

She says nothing, but sits on the step, her chest submerged in the warm water, and puts her chin in one hand, her face level with my cock, all while looking at me expectantly. I sigh. At this point in the game, I don't imagine I have anything to lose, and my cock will never forgive me if I don't stimulate it in some way, _any_ way at this point. Thus, in a repeat of the night prior, I lubricate with a bit more soap. I certainly don't dawdle, as I have no intention of dragging it out for Evans' benefit, and so I stroke quickly and efficiently, breathing harder as I bring myself to the edge.

"No, Malfoy," she admonishes me, grabbing my wrist. "You have a magnificent cock, so treat it with the respect it deserves."

I can only blink at her. Well then. That was unexpected, but hardly unwanted. I search her face to see if she's in earnest: I generally like to think I'm good at reading people, but she is merely giving me a smile that this time reaches her green eyes. Whether she's smiling because she genuinely believes her statement, or because she is enjoying getting the upper hand (pun intended), I'm just not sure. I choose to believe the first of the two possibilities, so when she releases my wrist, I slow down. She watches me intently as I work the shaft with deliberation and care. Her attention is unnerving, but I find myself becoming surprisingly aroused by my audience of one, and I can see that she, too, seems attentive in the same way she was while giving head to Potter. 

As I gradually increase my pace and my breathing speeds up, another possibility comes to mind: as I said, you can tell a lot about a person by how they masturbate, so there's a part of me that likes to think that in her scrutiny, as I was doing with her, she is filing information away for later. It's a cheering idea, and it pushes me closer to the brink. I stroke faster and as I do, Evans moves near to me, licking her lips, making me wonder what she's playing at. She does not touch me, but opens her mouth just under the engorged head of my cock, locking eyes with me and I almost lose control. Oh, Merlin, I see. She wants me to come in her mouth. Again, that's more than I would have expected and my cock adores the idea so much that with no further warning, it makes me groan as my cum shoots out onto her waiting tongue, her lips, and even overshoots onto her cheeks. 

She closes her eyes and swallows, making a noise low in her throat, before taking her fingers and wiping her face of the rest of my semen before licking them clean as well, now looking in my eyes again. For just a moment, words escape me. I clear my throat finally. "Well, Evans, that was...nice." 

She rolls her eyes and stands up. "Knit jumpers are _nice_ , Malfoy," she says. She climbs out of the tub and starts to towel off. "Puppies and babies are _nice_." 

I follow her out and grab another towel. "Very well, Evans. That was...surprising...dirty...and inspired." 

She grins grudgingly. "Are we going to do it again?" She asks, her voice almost so shy she puts me at risk of actually liking her. 

It's my turn to smile grudgingly as well as I wrap the towel around my waist. "Well, I don't know, Evans, are we? You do have a boyfriend, you know."

Her smile fades. "Look, Malfoy..." she starts. 

Now it's my turn to hold up a hand. "You don't have to say anything, Evans. Potter's... _nice._." I deliberately use the word in her stated context. To be perfectly candid, he's actually not; knit jumpers, puppies, and babies are nicer, but he does know how to charm the right people. He also has a loveable posse of miscreants that the Hogwarts staff can't seem to get enough of. I look down my nose at her. "Besides, I would never date a Muggle-born." I leave the more offensive epithet behind my teeth and try to say what I mean as a statement of fact, but I'm sure it falls on her delectable ears as conceited at the very least.

She rolls her eyes. "Perish the thought." She then looks at me shrewdly. "You'd stick your cock in one readily enough though, I see."

I pretend to sigh in relief. "I can't tell you how gratified I am to see you have a firm grasp of the situation." I smirk once more as another intended pun lands and she side-eyes me. Granted, I could flatter her and tell her that I'd date her but two things stop me: first, it's not true, nor shall it ever be, and there's no benefit to either of us in pretending otherwise and second, that sort of conniving flattery is exactly what Potter is infamous for, as are the rest of his insipid Marauders. I pull on my plaid flannel drawstring trousers. "It's actually quite simple, Evans," I say without any artifice, "and I shall spell it out for you now so there are no false pretenses. If you wish it, and I genuinely believe that you _do_ , I can certainly fuck you. As you said in your note to Potter, I am willing to 'stick it anywhere' you choose." 

By now, Evans has put on a fluffy pink terry robe with a shooting star worked on it with gold and silver thread, incongruous in its innocence considering that its wearer just licked my cum from her fingers. Evans graces me with a withering look as she sits on a bench and dries her hair. "How noble of you, Malfoy."

I give her a thin smile in return. "I wasn't finished." I cross to her and run a hand under the line of her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. I lower my face to hers and she closes her eyes, likely imagining that I'm going to kiss her. I'm not. Once again, I put my lips right next to her ear. "I will also lick your cunt without you having to ask." I run my tongue from her earlobe up the helix and watch a shiver come over her, raising gooseflesh on her neck. "I shall taste your cum and suck your clit and finger your tight hole until you will have no other recourse but to scream my name." I drop my voice to a whisper. "And the way I do it, you _will_ get it right." I close my teeth on her earlobe, nipping just enough to convey a danger without actually presenting one. 

She gasps, but says nothing. That got her attention. I come away from her ear. "I'm not saying I'm better for you than Potter, as I have no desire to be friends with you, but there is not a doubt in my mind, nor should there be one in yours at this point that I can see to your needs in ways that he clearly can't." I pull on a shirt and free my hair. "Now, be honest...whose fingers would you rather have in that eager cunt of yours?"

She smiles at me. "Do you honestly need my confirmation?" 

I scowl. It's a fair point. Her coming on my hand followed by her enthusiasm in swallowing my seed is confirmation enough. "I'll see you around then, Evans."

She nods gravely, although her eyes are still bright with suppressed mirth. "Malfoy."

I make my egress and on the way out, I see Potter coming in, an hour late so really, quite punctual. I half smile at him although his glance in my direction is decidedly frosty. "I primed her for you," I say.

He looks at me distrustfully. "What?"

I return his look with guileless innocence. "The hot water. What did you think I meant, Potter?"

He glances away. "Nothing," he mutters. He turns away from me and goes into the bathroom. I watch him retreat before heading down the hall. I could follow him back in and see what happens, but I find that this time I'm not tempted in the slightest. I know where I stand with Lily Evans and James Potter is anything but a threat to that. 

**VI.**

I avoid Evans for a few days on purpose. My plan is for her to miss me just slightly before I make another move. I am assured that she is perfectly capable of doing for herself, should she truly become desperate, but I hope it doesn't come to that. As it happens, another opportunity presents itself a few days later. Gryffindor and Slytherin share NEWT-level Herbology on Fridays, so I find myself in class with both Evans and Potter again. I treat them with the same indifference that I normally do, but I can feel Evans' eyes on me. 

Yes, clearly I'm on her mind, because when I go the supply cabinet to get what I need, so does she and in so doing, butts in front of me.

"Excuse me," I say brusquely.

She responds by bending forward slightly go get something off a low shelf in so doing, ensures that her arse rubs against me. Ah, I see now. I smirk and look around. No one pays us any mind. On the pretense of reaching something around her, I quickly snake my hand into her skirt and touch her between her thighs. Even with the thin cotton barrier of her underwear, I can feel the warmth and dampness as I caress her mound. She's ready, even now and my cock wakes up. I pull my hand out and, in her full view, pass my fingers under my nose, inhaling deeply. It smells like wanton craving and I groan, keeping it as quiet as I can and am rewarded by a pleading look from her. I give her nothing, just turn from her and go back to my own bench. If she wants it as I think she does, she'll make it happen.

I start my work, but then I hear, "Professor Sprout?" It's Evans. Her hand is up. Her knees are pressed together and her thighs flex and relax. Interesting. 

"Yes, dear?" 

"I left my Wandering Aster in Greenhouse 7. May I go and get it?"

"Of course." Professor Sprout waves her hand dismissively. 

"Erm...it's pretty heavy, so can Potter come with me?"

"Certainly, certainly." 

I sigh. Pity. No longer interested, I bend my head back over my tray of nightshade seedlings, but am startled out of my concentration by a tremendous crash. "Oh dear!" Evans again. I look up. She has accidentally upset the tray that she and Potter were working on. "So clumsy of me." 

Potter, gentleman that he is, bends over to help. 

"It looks like I'll need another helper, Professor Sprout." Evans' eyes flick to me, but only for an instant.

"Take Malfoy," Professor Sprout sounds impatient.

"No," we say at the same time, my voice cold, Evans' protesting. It seems we have the same thought of at least attempting to put on a show for the rest of the class of our mutual contempt.

"You can get it herself, or you can wait for Potter. I'm busy." I say at the same time as Evans' statement:

"I'd much rather wait for Potter."

Professor Sprout actually stops what she's doing and turns on both of us. She's usually cheerful to oblige, but right now she just looks like she wants to strike our heads together. "I shall dock 10 points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin if I have to spend any more class time on this foolishness," she says, lowering her eyebrows at us. For a moment, I feel sorry for her: even though she is relatively new to professorship, teaching Gryffindor and Slytherin together has no doubt already tread pitilessly on her forbearance. 

I sigh edgily. "Come on, Evans," I say. "Let's not have this take all day." I gesture to the door, as Potter is sweeping the dirt up. 

Greenhouse 7 is largely abandoned, and all the way in the southernmost corner of the greenhouse row. It stands empty because some brainless Fifth Year thought it wise to grow a Creeping Myrtle, which has crept over the entire greenhouse, shading it so much that little else will grow within. Professor Sprout has attempted to eradicate it with magic as well as herbicidal potions, but nothing seems to help. As I understand it, her plan is to wait until the winter kills it next year and then tear it out physically. It's a well thought-out location on Evans' part: secluded, private, and with very little chance of interruption, although unfortunately, time might be a factor. 

I watch Evans' rear end under her skirt, my mind fixated on the warmth my hand found there just moments ago. Evans gets out her wand and moves the Creeping Myrtle out of the way, before ducking into the greenhouse proper. I follow her in and the Myrtle closes behind me. The greenhouse lives up with its name: any light coming in is filtered through the overzealous plant, bathing the entire interior in a cocoon-like green glow. The tables have nothing on them currently, and one is covered with a beige drop cloth. Wand still out, Evans casts Scourgify, rendering it so clean that it almost appears freshly laundered. 

She stows her wand, turns and looks at me, resting her rear on the magically-spotless table. She says nothing, just removes her robe and tosses it on one of the other tables. She keeps eye contact with me, her green eyes filled with intensity and hunger as she loosens her Gryffindor tie, before unbuttoning her white shirt and removing that too. When she gets down to her bra, I move in. I run my hands up her arms and then her shoulders, before taking her bra straps down her arms. She shrugs out of them and I pull the cups of her bra down. Her breasts come free and I unhook her bra and toss it aside. 

I run my thumbs over her nipples, back and forth, and already she is arching her back and parting her lips. I kiss her under her ear. "How did it go with Potter?" I ask. I add in my other fingers now, working her nipples into hardness. She doesn't answer me, just gives me a soft moan. I decide to turn up the heat. I ease my knee between hers and let it travel up, forcing her to spread her legs apart. I kiss her harder, once again taking her earlobe and sucking it. When my knee reaches the junction where her legs meet, I move it ever so slightly in and out. She makes a sound deep in her throat and rides my knee, easing her pelvis forward and back, rubbing that warm mound against me. I pinch her nipple harder, just for an instant and she gives me a very satisfying squeak of shock. "I _said_ , how did it go with Potter?"

"It didn't," she answers between breaths. "He was an hour late."

I pull away from her a bit so I can see her, but leave my knee firmly pressed into her, letting her continue to gratify herself on it. "That's rude," I say. "I thought he was raised better."

She stops moving and glares at me. "You ensured that outcome as well, didn't you?" 

I say nothing, just drop my hands and use them, plus my knee to lift her rear onto the table. She gives me another squeak of surprise. "Does it matter?" I ask, letting my eyes travel between her legs. I take her shoes off one at a time and toss them to the side. I then put my hands under her knees and push up, giving her no choice but to go first to her elbows and, as I go higher, onto her back, sliding up the table. As I spread her legs apart and her gray wool skirt rides up to her hips, I see that she is wearing pink underwear with white dots and white lace trim. I notice because I have perception for fine detail, but none of this minutia actually matters: what matters is the spreading wetness darkening that small scrap of fabric where her thighs meet. 

I grin even as Evans blushes. I do a double take at her face. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Evans," I say, looking back at her damp knickers. "It's not the first time I've had that effect on a witch." 

"You're the most arrogant person I know," she says flatly.

My grin only widens. "No, I'm not," I say. "Potter is the most arrogant person you know. The difference is that I can back up my arrogance with skill and talent; Potter cannot." I punctuate this by running the backs of my knuckles down that warm, moist area covered by her underwear. "Tell me I'm wrong, Evans," I say, switching to stroking her softly with my fingertips. 

Her entire body shivers before she looks at me. "Well then, it's time to put your money where your mouth is, Malfoy," she says. 

"Very well." I put my hair over one shoulder and move between her spread thighs, but not before I pull over a stool. There's no point in being uncomfortable as I bestow oral pleasure upon Evans. I start by running two fingers over her cloth-covered labia, catching her clitoris between them and rubbing it from the outside, up and down before holding it still. With it thus trapped, I run my tongue over it, breathing out warm over her entire sex, making her gasp. I repeat this a few more times, teasing her through that layer of cloth that no doubt feels as heavy as the wool robe she's tossed to the side.

I delay until just before I suspect she'll ask, and then I hook my finger underneath her underwear and move it to one side. Her gorgeous cunt waits for me underneath. She's trimmed her pubic hair short and in one modest strip above her inner labia, making my life far easier as I use my fingers to spread her apart. She moans as I do this, and my cock jumps in seeing her unfolding in front of my eyes like the flower for which she was named. I start with one finger only, running it in a circle around her swollen clit. What Potter doesn't understand about giving pleasure in any form, particularly oral, is that not only does takes practice; Evans is not wrong on that front, it takes a gentle hand and patience. I continue my unhurried encircling of her clit, but now add in my tongue as well, darting in and striking, just the tip touching her. She may not taste like Butterbeer, but the way she does taste, that salty, musky, tangy flavor of female desire pulls at my core and my cock responds, now throbbing in its need to fill this space I'm currently discovering. 

I now add my lips in as well as the rest of my tongue, drawing her clit into my mouth to suck and lick it as I promised her. Evans rocks her pelvis against me, her breath hissing over her teeth. Her hands are now on her breasts, fondling her nipples. I let her do this for a moment, before taking her wrists and bringing them down. She gets the idea and uses her own fingers to spread herself apart. Before long, her underwear is soaked from both our contributions. 

With my hands now free, I slide my index finger to her damp opening. Still sucking on her clit, I move my finger up and down, playing with her without yet penetrating her. "Please," Evans says. Still at leisure, I ease my finger into her slippery passage and feel it contract around me as she lets out a moan. I turn my hand palm-up and crook my finger back around, finding the top of her wall and applying slow pressure before drawing it back and forth. I speed up with my tongue as I do this, and her moan changes in pitch to another surprised cry. I can see sweat glow between her breasts and on her tense abdomen. Her cunt is dripping, which is good because for what I have planned next, I need ample lubrication. I run my left hand through all the secretions now massing between her cunt and her anus, spreading the wealth so to speak.

I wonder what she'll do when I try what I'm about to do next, but there's really only one way to find out. Ever so gently, I rub her anus with my left index finger and she opens her legs farther, which I take as a favorable sign. The truth is, there are only two types of witches: those who enjoy anal play, and those who do not yet _know_ that they enjoy anal play. I suspect that Evans is the latter, but of course I aim to change that. I draw my right hand out of her and slide in a second finger, which goes in easily and makes her pant, her breasts rising and falling quickly. 

With my left hand, I let my index finger into her rear opening, just as far as the first joint. The tight ring of muscle clamps down and Evans lifts up her head to look at me, her green eyes filled with doubt. "Relax, Evans," I say coming off her clitoris for just a moment. I pull all my typical irony out of my words now: this is too important. "Trust me and let it happen." She nods and does as I ask, unclenching. I'm impressed and in no small way pleased as well by her faith in me. I slide my finger farther into her arse, all while increasing the pace of fingering her cunt and sucking on her as well. Her rear end tightens and relaxes and with great care I push my finger into her rear as far as it will go, all while plunging my other fingers into her pussy. Her breathing is now just a series of frantic gasps and I give it everything I've got. She comes, shrieking and taking one hand off of herself to stuff her knuckles into her mouth. The rest of her bucks against both of my hands and my mouth as she rides out her climax for what seems like minutes. 

When she finishes, she flops back, gasping for air. I slide both of my hands out of her and come up. Her arms are over her head and as she catches her breath, she smiles widely, her eyes sparkling. "Now what, Malfoy?" she asks.

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh, so now you know my name?" 

She looks at me, her eyes wide. "Well, you said if you were to do...what you just did, I would learn your name, and well..." her smile doesn't waver. "You were right." She sighs with contentment before turning somewhat more serious. "So, again, I'll ask, now what?" 

Maintaining eye contact, I close her legs and slide her underwear down, before taking them off. She looks up at me as her breasts rise and fall with her breathing. "Does this mean what I think?" she asks, looking at my erection within my trousers. 

"If what you think is that I'm going to take a token, a prize if you will, then yes." I stand and put her sodden knickers in the pocket of my trousers before I unbuckle, unbutton, unzip. Now it's my turn. "As to what I want..." I take out my cock and stroke it. "How about you give me the same thing that you gave Potter the day I caught you?" 

She sits up. "Well, Malfoy, you've presented me with quite a moral quandary." She reaches down and runs her hand down the underside of my cock and I feel my breath catch. She lifts herself back off the table and kneels in front of me. She now takes me in her hand and I let her take over. 

"What is that?" I ask. 

She stops her hand at the head of my cock and starts in with her tongue in the same manner that she did for Potter. It seems she is going to take me very seriously indeed and far be it from me to protest. "Oh, I can suck your cock, Malfoy," she purrs against the head and I moan at the contact, to say nothing of the rapturous attention she is bestowing on this insistent part of my anatomy. "But I feel that I should take 10 points from Slytherin because in a sense I'm catching you in an illicit sexual act in a public place." 

It's not even a question. "Done and done," I say between breaths. 

She smiles and takes my manhood in her mouth properly, stroking me with her hand as she passes my cock through her lips and over her tongue, to bump gently against the back of her throat. Her blowjob feels as good as it looked on Potter (although I'm sure it looks better on me), and she uses her hands and her mouth to marvelous effect, bringing me to the edge efficiently. Admittedly, with all the consideration I've given her in the last few minutes, coupled with the fact that we are running out of time, it doesn't take very long. As my breathing speeds up and my midsection tightens, she takes me deep into her throat, contracting around me as I feel my cum spurt onto the back of her mouth. I let out a groan of pleasure. 

She swallows and I'm gratified by that. I don't know why, but it's always pleasing and more than a little flattering when a witch will accept my cum in her mouth and keep it. She doesn't let go right away either, but laps up the last few drops that shine on the head. When she's finished, I help her up and then re-do my trousers and tuck my shirt back in. We don't talk as she finds her own clothes and we put ourselves back together to the point that it doesn't look like we've been doing what we've been doing. Without any more fuss, we find her Wandering Aster, which is not in bloom right now, but has still wandered from where she left it and carry it back to class.

As we get back to our respective benches, I return to ignoring her, although I find myself reacting with delight every time I catch her squirming on her stool. I know that it's the fact that her knickers are in my pocket and not covering her newly-sensitized and still-saturated pelvic region that is making her do it. I wonder in what other ways I can make her respond to me and find that I look forward to finding out. 

**VII.**

Because it's May, NEWTs are rapidly approaching, and so everyone is on edge. Ergo, the Prefects' bathroom becomes less optimal as the time passes, because all Prefects seem to want to take that edge off in the same, naughty way. I am not excluded and have availed myself of the bathroom's salubrious benefits, but in a deviation from my normal behavior, I have engaged in sexual behavior only by myself, despite offers from a few witches. For her part, Evans must be bathing or masturbating at some other hour because I never seem to see her in there in the week or so following our Herbology adventure. And yes, I kept her knickers and yes, I do use their invigorating scent to arouse myself as I recall Evans soaking them as I tasted her spectacular pussy. 

I do see Evans in Potions class, but she seems to be very careful around me, and I'm not precisely sure why. However, Potter has been glancing in my direction and when he does, I sneer at him and twirl my finger in the air so he gets the hint and turns back around to face the front of the class. I surmise that he suspects something, but the possibility given who Evans is and who I am is so outlandish that I can't imagine he is married to the thought that something is going on between us. Then again, we did take longer than what logic would dictate we should in getting Evan's Wandering Aster last week. Perhaps he's more savvy than I initially I thought. 

Whatever is going on, I need to talk to Evans, as I would very much like to continue what we started, so when she goes to the store room for more yarrow tincture, I follow her. She does not see me this time, and stands on her toes, peering at the different bottles and jars in her quest. As craftily as I can, I take out my wand and ward the door. I watch Evans for only a moment; as with Herbology, time is not on my side. As she reaches up, her skirt rides up her shapely thighs and my cock wonders if it'll get a chance to dally between them today. 

I make my move quickly, grabbing the jar she reaches for before she gets to it, ensuring that my erection brushes her hip. She jumps. "Malfoy." Her voice sounds breathless and I'd like to think that it's me, but if I'm honest, it's more likely because I just startled her. "What are you doing?"

I smile at her and hold out the jar. "Why, being a gentleman, of course," I answer, holding out the jar for her. "By the by, you're not avoiding me, are you Evans?" I keep my tone light.

She sighs. "No, but you're not as cunning as you think you are: James is watching you and me both, so today might not be the best day to be in here with me." 

I look at the jar in my hand and then back to her. "I'm merely in here to help you," I say. "Prefect to Prefect."

She looks at me warily and then reaches out for it. As she does, I pull it out of her reach. "Oh, that's mature," she mutters, stretching her arm out after it. This ensures that she must close the distance with me, her chest now mere inches from mine as she tries to get the jar. I waste no time. With my free hand, I pull up her skirt and put my hand into her knickers. Her breath catches in her throat at my touch but Evans does absolutely nothing to stop me. I use my fingers to probe between her satiny folds, finding them tantalizingly moist already. My cock presses insistently into her hip as I start to move my fingers against her, letting my middle finger penetrate her just slightly while the others play with her clitoris. "Do you want this?" I ask, my lips almost on hers.

"Y-yes," she moans, already moving against me, pulling me in deeper. I carefully set the yarrow tincture down on the shelf behind me. 

"Has Potter been doing any of this to you?"

"Yes," she says, her voice somewhat more steady, but her hips continuing to move complementary to my hands. 

I drop my voice to a whisper and let my lips just graze her ear. "And did you think of me when he tried it?"

"Yes." Her voice has dropped in pitch and volume and she melts into my chest as I shamelessly finger her.

"And did you wish it was me instead of him doing it to you?"

By now, she reaches her hand out and massages my erection through my trousers. "Yes." It's so low I can barely hear it, but I don't really need to. Her eyes are open and the longing is there so I have my answer loud and clear. I move my hand off of her and use both to pull her underwear down. She kicks them off. 

I don't really want this to be rushed, in a store room, while class is going on outside and her boyfriend waiting for her, but the truth is, it's long overdue. Still, it's worth it to play with her just a little. Locking eyes with her, I lick my fingers, letting them linger in my mouth, before returning them between her legs. "Tell me what you want, Evans," I say, easing my finger back into her.

"I want--" She cuts off with a sharp intake of breath as I curve my finger back around to find the same sensitive band of nerve fibers I did before. 

"Yes?" 

"I want your cock in me," she says, her hips already riding against my finger. 

With my other hand, I undo my trousers. "In your cunt or in your arse?" I say. 

She blushes and looks to the side, suddenly abashed. I smirk. "I insist that you tell me, Evans," I warn her. "We have very little time and I need you to make up your mind sooner rather than later." 

"My c-cunt," she says, hardly able to get the dirty word out, but it's music to my ears, what with her being such a pillar of virtue within the Hogwarts student community. And even though I've asked the question to many witches, I'd wager it's the first time Evans has ever heard it, which is pleasing in and of itself.

I remove my hand from her and use it to point to the counter. "Get up there then and spread your thighs for me," I command. She responds with alacrity, lifting her skirt and spreading her legs wide. I open a drawer and then another, until I find what I'm looking for: a bottle of Oil of Slipperiness. As much as I'd like to, we don't have time for other refinements such as oral sex to ready us more effectively. Without ceremony, I shake a few drops onto my erect cock and stroke it a few times to distribute it. 

Evans waits for me, her rear end perched on the table and her face full of trepidation and excitement. I could do worse; she is quite pretty and so very keen for it, which is never unwelcome. I move between her spread legs and put my head of my cock against her opening, using my hand to guide. "Are you ready?" I whisper. 

"Yes." She says the word one more time and I slowly ease into her, feeling the walls of her cunt close deliciously around me. I groan as my hips meet hers and now put my hands on her hips for leverage. Before she has a chance to recover from being fully stretched by my cock, I pull back and drive into her hard. She cries out and once more puts her knuckles into her mouth. 

"I don't have time to be gentle, so I'm going to fuck you hard this time," I say, my voice low with desire. It's clear we both want it badly, and even rushed like it is today, it's as sweet as I hoped it would be. 

"A-all right." 

I pull back and push into her again and she cries out against her closed hand. Again. She puts her hands behind her on the counter to brace herself against my onslaught, mashing her lips together so she doesn't make a sound. The counter is perfectly deep, so after a moment, she lies back all the way, her legs pulled up. This is lovely, because now when I look down, I can see my cock disappearing between her glistening inner labia and coming out slick again. It's a delightful view and I almost come in watching. Evans has similar thoughts and reaches one hand down and rubs her clit as I plunge in and out of her. She moves slowly at first, passing the receptive pearl of her clitoris' head between her fingertips before rubbing it as if it's her job. Her eyes are closed now and her mouth open, breathing in a quiet series of gasps. I pound into her now, rattling the jars on the shelf as she moves her fingers almost in a frenzy. 

We come at the same time, as quietly as we can. I can be restrained when I need to be, such as now, but Evans has almost her entire fist in her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut, her shoulders tense, and her entire body writhing on the counter. It's a miracle she doesn't break anything. When I spend myself in her finally, it feels tremendous, especially with her cunt contracting around me with her own orgasm. However, in observing her reaction, it occurs to me that one day I should Polyjuice myself into a woman and fuck someone, just to see what it's like. I'm positive I'm not the first wizard to have such an idea. In my experience, when witches come, it's generally far more violent and almost without exception, far louder, which prompts me to ask the question of whether or not their orgasms are more intense or somehow better than ours. 

I pull out of Evans and use a towel to dry off before handing it to her. She looks around guiltily before cleaning herself off as well. She finds her underwear and puts them back on, giving me a reproachful glance for even considering stealing them again. She moves with efficiency because even though our illicit tryst took less than five minutes, it's still too long to be in the store room, either solo or with another witch or wizard. Without looking at me, she goes to the exit. Right before she leaves, I stop her: "Evans."

"What?" An impatient one-syllable answer.

"You seem to have forgotten something."

She turns and gives me a look of vexation. "What, Malfoy?"

I hold out the yarrow tincture. "Thanks," she says, another impatient, one-syllable answer. She crosses the room, takes it from me and then goes to the door once more. 

I hold my smile as I watch her go. I then look around to make sure I didn't forget anything and my eyes light on the Oil of Slipperiness. Without hesitating, I abscond with it, putting it in the pocket of my robe, positive that, with Evans, it will come in handy sooner rather than later. I pause for half a minute before leaving the storeroom as well. Potter looks at me sharply and then at Evans. I smirk at him. I can't help it. There's a part of me that wants to tell him that I've given his precious, sweet girlfriend three orgasms in a week, when he probably has never given her one in the three to four months that they've been dating. But it's not time. Not yet. 

**VIII**

A few more days go by. Now I see Evans more often, in the Great Hall, in Potions, in Herbology and I find myself watching her, wondering when I'll get to be with her again, feel her move around me, gasp in my ear, come on my cock or my hand or my mouth. One day I see her cross the quad, drop a quill and bend over to pick it up, once again her gray skirt lifting up the back of her thighs and her rear in the air. It occurs to me in that moment that, despite the choice I gave her, I need to take her arse. It's absolutely critical. I can admit it's not the most noble thought I've ever had about a witch, but I can't get the idea out of my mind and I do have the Oil of Slipperiness burning a hole in my trouser pocket. 

I follow her, watching that rear end move as she walks. I don't just want to do it for my sake, but I find that helping her discover her pleasure, as it always does with myself and witches, just makes me want it more. Also, with Evans, my intuition tells me that she would be open to it as evidenced by three things: her offering Potter any of her enchanting openings for his pleasure, her accepting my finger in her most forbidden of those openings, and her not being horrified by the choice I gave her last time. 

I decide that for this, the Prefects' bathroom would simply work the best, despite its current popularity. This time, my intention is to keep it simple and allow as much time as possible; the last two were simply too rushed. When Evans enters a corridor, even though there are other students around, I catch up with her and bend my head to her just long enough to whisper instructions, "Prefect's Bathroom, tonight, ten o'clock pm." I try and pick a time late enough not to have any competition and thus, interruption. Evans nods almost imperceptibly and I walk around her, head straight, gaze neutral. To anyone observing us, it would appear that I am negating her existence and thus, that nothing is amiss.

When ten o'clock approaches, I arrive to the bathroom first, start the water, disrobe, and settle in to wait. There is a long, stone bench next to the tub and I cover it with a few towels to create a relatively comfortable surface, before watching the colored steam rise from the huge bathtub. Evans doesn't make me wait long. When she comes in, I turn off the taps and sit on the bench, leaning back on my hands. She lingers by the door, looking at me, her face somewhat troubled. "What is it, Evans?" I ask, trying hard to keep the impatience out of my voice.

Her shoulders heave with a sigh. "Can we talk, Malfoy?" 

I smile. "After," I answer. I already know what's coming, that Potter likely said something to her about his suspicions between the two of us. I suppose I can have the conversation with her at some point, but it will keep until we're done. Nothing shall change outside the bathroom during the time that we occupy it tonight and I'd just as soon we fuck as not. 

Evans seems to occupy the same frame of mind as she puts her troubled thoughts away and hangs up her robe. She pulls off her Gryffindor tie with efficiency and starts unbuttoning the white shirt underneath. "Stop," I say. 

She looks at me with alarm. "Why?"

"Do you have somewhere else you need to be?"

She frowns. "I don't suppose so."

I let my smile widen. "Then by all means, take your time." I lean back on the bench, letting my eyes travel up and down her body, my cock already stiff with anticipation. 

She smiles in spite of herself. She keeps her eyes on mine and unbuttons her shirt slowly, revealing the smooth _V_ of skin beneath. She then runs her hands lightly over that tiny bit of her that she's revealed, sighing, before shrugging out of her shirt. Now her fingers find the creamy surface of the tops of her breasts and brushes them. Every so often, she dips a finger below the lace trim and I can only imagine she's hooking it around the nipple underneath. Before too long, she shrugs out of the straps and slowly pulls her bra down, now fondling her nipples at leisure. 

I watch intently, stroking my cock. This is much better already than a quick in-out-over in the Potions store room. Evans takes her bra off completely, followed by her skirt and underwear in one movement and stands before me. I drink in the sight of her naked from her toes to her hair. I then beckon her over. Her eyes on my cock, Evans approaches me and immediately kneels between my legs. "No," I say, taking one of her hands and pulling her up to sit next to me.

She looks at me quizzically, but doesn't say anything. I retrieve the Oil of Slipperiness, and, her hand still in mine, I put some on her hand and enclose it in my own hand before settling it on my cock. She gets the idea quickly as we stroke together. Before too long, I pull my hands off and let her take over. She strokes firmly, but not too quickly and I find myself enjoying her touch on its own merit. Before I let her get me too close, I take her hand and gently pull it off. I then stand. "Lie down," I tell her.

She does as I ask, lying on her back and letting her legs drift over each side of the bench. "Lucius?" she asks. I look at her sharply: it's the first time she's ever used my given name. 

"Yes?" 

"Can you kiss me?"

I sigh. I was hoping this wouldn't come up. "I can. But I shouldn't, _Evans_." I put deliberate emphasis on her surname. 

She looks at me, head tilted to the side empathetically, even lying on her back. "Oh...because it's the one thing you're not good at it?" she asks, eyes filled with concern that I suspect is feigned for the purpose of taunting me.

I glare at her. Then I kneel next to her and lower my face to hers. I kiss her on the mouth, not tenderly: it's a kiss full of dark possession, clamping my mouth to hers, opening my lips and letting my tongue meet hers and caress it while she moans. I pull her bottom lip between mine and bite slightly, making her breath catch. In kissing her this way, I strive to communicate that yes, I can give her the intimacy of kissing, but my intention is not to love her (Potter can do that), but to mine her body of every ounce of pleasure that it has to give up to me. 

I let my lips travel down her neck to her collarbones and finally to her breasts. I kiss her nipple and then run my tongue over it, drawing it into my mouth to suck it, while moving my right hand to her other breast and cupping it before pinching the nipple between two fingers. I switch now, moving my mouth to her other breast while fondling the now-wet nipple between finger and thumb. I stroke myself with my free hand. 

I move back to the breast closest to me and move my free hand between her legs. My fingers are covered with Oil of Slipperiness, which I now apply to Evans' already plenty slippery opening. She moans and works herself against my probing fingers. I don't bring her to orgasm this way, not tonight. I only work long enough to make sure she's plenty lubricated before I stand. "Stand up, Evans," I say. 

"Why?" she asks.

"Because I can't do all the work," I say. Sighing as if it pains her greatly, she sits up and relinquishes the bench. When she vacates it, I lie down on my back. "Don't fret," I say to her as she chews her lip in consternation. "You'll enjoy this plenty." I beckon her back in with both hands. She straddles me. I take her hand and put it back on my cock and together, ever so slowly, we bring it to her waiting entrance. With a quavering sigh, Evans takes me inch by inch into her until she's sitting on me. I let out my breath as well. Even though we did this a few days ago, I forgot how it felt and to be fair, it feels different with the witch on top, as I'm sure Evans is now finding out, to her delight.

I still hope to breach her rear entrance tonight, but in order to do that, I need to take her cunt first and make her come, preferably on her own terms: if she feels as if she's in control, she'll be far more relaxed, which will make the second part of my plan go far more smoothly. At this point, she's not moving, not much, just enjoying having me in her, touching every part I can reach. She pulls back and then bumps her hips on mine, grinding her clit into my lower abdomen. She does it again, slightly faster and gasps as her clit caresses my pelvic bone. Almost tentatively, she reaches her hands up to my ribs before pulling back and grinding at me again.

I can feel her wet and warm around me, contracting with each thrust. She's not moving much, just a mere inch or two up and down, but it's enough. I run my hand up her thighs and take hold of her hips gently, not controlling her, just maximizing the efficacy of each of her movements. She's moving against me more aggressively now, shooting her hips forward and I push up slightly against her. I can hear the faint, wet noises of her cunt as she rides against me. She's moving fast now, her breasts bouncing slightly as she approaches orgasm. Now she rubs her clit against me with each thrust, faster and faster, as her breathing reaches what I know is the pattern that precedes climax. 

When she does come, she doesn't hold back, but yells like she did the first time, judiciously refraining from saying any name whatsoever, just letting out the sounds that come to her naturally in her rapture. I love watching her, but I squeeze my eyes tight and push my thoughts to the last Quidditch match against Ravenclaw and review every save I made and analyze each to maintain my stamina, as I'm not yet ready to come with her, not this time.

Spent, Evans relaxes, my cock still deep in her, catching her breath. I tap her thigh and jerk my thumb. She pauses, rolls her eyes, and climbs off me, letting my cock slide wetly out. "You don't have to be that way, Evans," I chide her. "I believe we can both agree this late in the game that I know what I'm doing." 

She stands to the side and folds her arms, but I have a difficult time taking her sternness seriously when she's just come on my cock. "Well then, Malfoy, what did you have in mind?"

I smile and stand as well. "I'm so pleased you asked. Lie down once more, if you would be so kind, Evans." I gesture to the bench. Looking at me warily, she lies on the bench on her back. "Draw your knees up." She does, presenting me with a perfect view of my options. I kneel between her legs and reach for the Oil of Slipperiness. "Now Evans," I say as I rub a good amount on my left hand. "I'm going to stick my cock in your arse." 

"Oh, no you don't, Malfoy," she snaps, going to get up. 

I sigh and point at the bench once again, firmly. She glares at me and relaxes once more. "Anyway," I say, keeping my tone light as I rub the oil between my fingertips. "You offered Potter any orifice." I put my well-lubricated index finger against her anus and rub it gently. "I think it's only fair that, because I've given you multiple, various orgasms, that I be afforded the same opportunity." I now apply pressure and the tip of my finger slips in. 

Evans gasps. "But I actually like Potter," she says, even as her breathing speeds up. 

I smile. "Oh, Evans," I say, easing my finger into her farther. "That's really neither here nor there." She bares down on me, allowing my finger to make its way into her fully. Her eyes have now closed and her hands have drifted over her breasts, her fingers pinching the nipples as her rear end rocks against my finger, making it move in and out. I call her bluff. "You seem to enjoy what I do to your rear whether you like me or not." 

Her eyes fly open. "It's going to hurt, Malfoy."

I make a satisfied noise, "Are you calling me well-endowed, Evans?" I ask, making my voice low and seductive. "That's the kindest thing you've ever said to me." 

"No, you idiot," she snaps. "I'm saying that a cock, _any_ cock is larger than a finger." 

I say nothing, just gently push my finger in and out of her.

She relents finally, sighing in annoyance. "But yes, you are well-endowed."

I smile. "Why, thank you, Evans." I slip my finger out of her, and then apply more oil. I return with two fingers and ease them in gently. Evans bites her lip, but handles the excess well. "And no, properly done, it doesn't hurt in the slightest."

"How do you know?" she snaps. "It's not as if you've ever--" She cuts off suddenly, her eyebrows rising at my knowing look. "Oh..." she says with dawning comprehension. What I don't tell her that while Hogwarts is co-educational, it _is_ a boarding school, so of course I've had a cock in my arse myself, in addition to topping both witches and wizards of my acquaintance. I keep this information to myself as with my other hand, I brush my fingers over Evans' clit, massaging it while I finger her. Her breathing has sped up again. Before she can get too excited, I slip my fingers out of her. I use a generous amount of Oil of Slipperiness on my cock before bringing the head to her rear opening. As it was before I used my finger in that capacity the first time, she gives me a look of doubt. "If it hurts excessively, I'll stop," I say. "Can you maybe open your stubborn Gryffindor mind just a bit?"

She nods. "All right," she says quietly.

"Excellent. Such a brave decision." I press the head of my cock on the ring of muscle and apply pressure until it opens for me. Evans grimaces, but says nothing. "Breathe, Lily," I say, her given name slipping out without my meaning it to. Still, it appears to be the right thing to say as she breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth. The head of my cock has passed into her and I apply more oil to the shaft and then push into her, millimeter by millimeter. I move my hands from my cock to under her knees, pushing them up to ease my way. Evans fists the white towels under her hands, but doesn't say anything. 

Once again, I have to force myself to think of Quidditch as this prohibited part of Evans is drawn tightly around my cock and I almost come before I'm even fully into her. I finally make it all the way, my hips seated against her rear. This is completely different from being in her cunt, in that I have to be far more patient and gentle, which is difficult, as I feel like my cock is going to explode. Evans opens her eyes and looks at me, and I have to admit, I'm touched by the trust I find there. 

She smiles at me shakily. "Good, Evans," I murmur and her smile brightens. I release her legs and she takes over holding them up. My hands now free, I use my left to spread her labia apart while my right starts stroking her clit. Sensitive from her recent orgasm, Evans begins to breathe faster as I rub her, passing her clit between my fingers, first up and down, before rubbing back and forth. I then move my cock gently in and out of her arse, greatly enabled by the Oil of Slipperiness. I fondle her clit with light, quick strokes and then slip a finger from my left had into her cunt, feeling my own cock move underneath the thin wall. Evans now breathes faster as I speed up, and almost without warning, she comes hard, letting out a shriek. I let myself go at the same time as the tight space closes around me. It's intense enough that for once, I'm almost as loud as she is. 

**IX.**

Once I've recovered marginally, I pull out of her slowly and she releases her legs down. Still breathing hard, I lean my forearms on the bench and put my head between them, the aftershocks of the brutally intense orgasm still running through me. 

"Malfoy?" Evans asks tenatively.

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

The concern in her voice takes me by surprise. Luckily, I'm not looking at her, so when I bring my head up, my expression is one of satisfaction. "Never better, Evans." I look at the bathtub. "In need of washing, perhaps."

She looks at the bathtub as well, and then back to me now with disapproval. "Aren't you going to ask how I am?"

I let my gaze wander back to her. She has sat up now on the bench, both legs over one side. "You're fine, Evans," I answer. "It was far easier than you thought it would be and you were surprised at how pleasurable it was. You'll tell me instantly if I'm in any way incorrect, so I'm not worried. Now, am I wrong?"

She suppresses a smile, unsuccessfully. "No."

I smile at her in return. "Very well, then." I turn serious as I walk down the stairs into the steaming bath. I submerge my body, feeling all my muscles relax simultaneously and close my eyes, leaning my head against the wall of the bathtub. Evans follows me in, as I suspected she might. I open my eyes and look her as she makes her way over to me. "You really must relax, Evans," I say. "You may not be able to trust me in any other respect, but in this one area, I have no greater purpose than granting you pleasure, with one notable exception."

"And that is?" Her voice is edged with suspicion.

I open my eyes and look at her. "Why, granting myself pleasure, of course."

She shakes her head: once again, I've annoyed her, which is fine with me. "Of course."

I let all traces of sarcasm leave my voice this time: "let me make something clear, Evans, it shall never be at the price of your discomfort or pain. You have my word as a Malfoy and as a pureblood wizard." She looks at me strangely, but says nothing to this proclamation: she knows that short of swearing on my own life, this is the strongest oath I can possibly make her and I do it in all sincerity. I raise an eyebrow. "This surprises you?"

"Well..." she starts, but pauses, unsure how to proceed. She roundly dislikes me, and yet I told her that her reliance on me was well-founded, at least in terms of how I treated her body. "You seem to enjoy making others uncomfortable." 

"Come now, Evans," I admonish her. "Be honest: who has caused you more physical discomfort, myself or Potter?"

Her face turns red and she tightens her lips into a firm line. She recovers after a second or two. "Actually, that's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"You seriously don't intend to answer my very simple question?" I let a smirk out. "I can only draw one conclusion from that, you know...unless of course, you can correct me and still maintain the integrity you seem to think you have." Evans staunchly refuses to reply, but it doesn't matter: I have my answer and it's flattering, but not remotely surprising. Still, I don't have it in me not to gloat just a bit: "What a pity," I say, "And I've just jammed my 'well-endowed' cock--your words--every inch, mind you, into your arse." 

Evans knows that she's losing the battle. " _Your_ words, Malfoy," she says through a clenched jaw.

I shrug. "Semantics, Evans: you _did_ agree to them, right before--"

"All right, you've had your fun at my expense." She cuts me off.

"In every possible sense, Evans. Besides, not once did I hear you complain."

Evans closes her eyes and sighs, seeming to center herself. "James suspects us, Malfoy." 

I trail my fingers through the water, enjoying the warmth against my fingers. "And this is my problem...why? James Potter's indignation at the fact that he is nowhere near my level is a non-threat as far as I'm concerned." I close my eyes once again and lean my head against the wall. 

"He's my boyfriend," Evans says quietly. 

"Yes, and?" I'm already bored with this conversation, but seeing as Evans seems to insist on having it, I fear I have no choice. Besides, I lack the appropriate willpower to exit the bathtub, so for the time being, I'm in stasis.

"I don't want him to break up with me."

"Again, I fail to see how this is in any way my problem." 

She sighs. "He's kind and funny, and he cares for me deeply." 

Irritated, I bring my head up again and fix her with a stony glare. "What is it that you want from me, Lily?" I ask. "I made it clear what I could do for you, and I have come through on every single aspect that I delineated that day. I also outlined how I would fall short: I'm not your boyfriend, nor will I ever be, and you wouldn't want that anyway, so I don't understand why we are engaging in this line of conversation."

"I just wish..." She licks her lips as her eyes track away from mine.

"You just wish what?" 

"That he was a better lover." She says the words almost inaudibly, but I do hear them. 

I almost say something cutting to her, but I stop myself. I've proven that I'm adept at pleasuring her, far better than Potter, and I've already rubbed it in once tonight: doing so again would be churlish at this point. "Have you spoken with him?" I find myself asking. The very last thing I want to be is a shoulder upon which she can cry regarding her boy troubles: I'm simply not the man for that particular task. Evans sighs again and reaches for the soap. I take it from her and a washcloth and pull one of her arms out of the water and start to wash her. When I speak again, I let my voice soften. "Look, Evans, to the extent of my knowledge, Potter is not a Legilimens. Thus, it's not enough to slap his hand away when he isn't doing what you want. Granted, if he's harming you or causing you danger, of course, you must insist that he cease immediately." I take her other arm now and wash it, before moving to her legs. I run the soapy washcloth over her calf and her foot, before rubbing the bottom with the ball of my thumb, making her sigh with contentment. "Aside from that, you must guide him in the ways of what pleases you." I switch to the other leg and repeat, giving her a brief foot massage as well. 

"What if he doesn't listen?" 

I stop and glare at her. "Refuse to take his cock in any capacity until he does." I carefully wash her breasts. "If that doesn't work, no matter how kind and funny he is, end it immediately." I move down finally between her legs and clean her with utmost care and even now, she tilts her head back and parts her lips when I touch her. "If he doesn't heed you in this intimate and important respect, then despite whatever you may say or may believe, he doesn't actually care for you in the slightest." I sigh and then move around her. "The dirty little secret is that I didn't wake up one day a tremendous lover: as you yourself told Potter, it takes practice, patience, and forbearance. You both have to be willing to fail and try again, and fail, until you get it right, or else start seeing other people." 

She opens her eyes and smiles. "Thank you, Lucius."

I come back around her and smirk. "If it doesn't work, I'll still happily fill any of your..." I look meaningfully between her legs. "Requirements." I look back into her eyes once more. "Actually, that I'll do anyway, so great is my magnanimity." 

Her smile fades and once again she rolls her eyes before fixing me with a look of exasperation. "You're a god among men, Malfoy." 

I ignore her tone completely as I nod graciously. "Your statement simply cements the obvious, but I thank you nonetheless." 

She moves around me now and climbs out of the tub, the water running off of her body before she grabs a towel.

I turn and lean my forearms on the edge of the tub, relaxing my chin onto them as I watch her. "Or I could just tell him everything."

She looks at me sharply. "You wouldn't dare," she whispers, fire in her eyes.

I raise an eyebrow. "You said he already knows, so I can't imagine what harm it would do." 

She starts drying off. "Are you trying to break us up?"

I chuckle as I dry myself. "Don't flatter yourself." I now follow her out of the tub and take another towel. "However, if the only way you can reconcile what's going on is as a binary choice or if that is what you believe Potter shall present you, so be it: you may be with a man who can please you sexually, but who has no interest in you romantically or you may be with a _boy_ who apparently cares for you, but simply cannot be bothered to learn how to fulfill you." I stop and look at her and I see the fear in her eyes. I open a hand in her direction, a conciliatory gesture. "I can tell you that _I_ would never couch it in such Dark and Light terms, nor do I have any desire to break up your adorable, if pathological relationship."

Evans has started to put her clothes back on. "You don't believe in exclusivity?" 

I smile. "You seem to believe you're pretty clever, Evans. What do you think?" I too start to dress.

She frowns. "Apparently you must not, but aren't you going to get married one day?"

I incline my head. "For a certainty. I shall join my ancient and noble house with another of comparable status as is required by custom. If I happen to care for the witch that fulfills those pre-determined requirements and vice versa, I shall count myself fortunate indeed, but I am pragmatic enough not to count on it." My trousers on, I pull on my shirt and free my hair. "However, whether or not I do care for her has no bearing on whether or not I take lovers after the alliance is forged: that habit of mine is unlikely ever to change. Surely you understand."

Evans looks disgusted. "You wouldn't even be loyal to your wife?"

I smile at her coldly. "Says the witch with a boyfriend about whom _she_ cares and vice versa, who just enjoyed having another wizard six..." I pause and frown, looking at the arched stone ceiling, "Seven? Inches deep in her." I look back at Evans once again, my smile returning.

She at least has the grace to look ashamed. 

I put my slippers back on and gather the rest of my things. "If the moral implications are splitting your mind in half, there's the door," I say, gesturing to it with my free hand. "If not, rest well, dear Evans..." I lean in and kiss her under the ear, "...and prepare yourself for another round imminently." I step around her and exit without looking back. 

**X.**

As the school year comes to a close, I make every attempt to meet with Evans alone, and vexingly, it only works on a limited basis. Yes, we meet, but our trysts are confined to broom closets and store rooms. Mostly they involve a curse-quick blow job, followed up with me pushing her skirt up and her underwear aside and taking her cunt quickly, without any art or finesse, driving between her legs just a few times before coming, largely at her insistence, not mine. It fulfills a base need, at least for me, and she seems to enjoy it somewhat, but she doesn't come, whether out of fear, or guilt, or simply being rushed and not being able to let go sufficiently: I'm not certain. I do know that she keeps one fearful eye on the door while the crime is being committed. In any event, even though I spend my sexual currency on her almost without exception, the transactions are so brief and perfunctory that I garner little satisfaction from them. 

I would imagine it also has a great deal to do with the fact that her and Potter's relationship is strained right at the moment. Some of it is due to the NEWT exams, but if that is the only aspect to which the two of them attribute their tension, they are deluding themselves. Even I am well aware that it has everything to do with me. Ordinarily, I wouldn't care, but it's starting to affect me too, to the point that I'd like to tell Potter what's going on, to force him to jump one way or another off the fence he seems to enjoy sitting on. 

However, one day Potter makes my decision for me. I go to the store room in Potions to get some dried wormwood and give Evans a look that suggests that I expect her to follow me. I don't even bother to keep it from Potter. Evans looks to me and then to him with anxiety in her green eyes. I don't let it bother me and make my way to the store room and this time, it is Potter who follows me, not Evans. He wards the door behind him and glares at me. 

"Something you need from me, Potter?" I ask.

"What's going on between you and Lily?" he answers my question with a question. 

I smile. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I say silkily.

He scowls and draws his wand. "Don't lie to me, Malfoy."

I look at his wand without expression. "And what are you going to do with that?"

"I'll hex you to Hades if you don't tell me the truth." 

Sighing, I lean against the counter and fold my arms. "Do as the spirit moves you," I reply nonchalantly. "But you should know that it shall change nothing." I examine my fingernails for a moment, before looking at him again. "Are we done then?" I now move and get the jar I need down from the shelf above me and set it on the counter.

"No," Potter says through gritted teeth, "Tell me, Malfoy."

"Tell you what?" I ask, measuring out the wormwood onto a brass scale. 

"What you're doing to Lily." 

I turn to him once more and look at him appraisingly. His brows are lowered and his eyes are dark behind his glasses. His feet are in a wide stance and he is lightly balanced upon them. Everything about him looks poised for a fight. Put simply, it's the posture of the insecure. I sigh again, knowing that holding my conquests of his own girlfriend over Potter won't even be diverting: it's far too easy. Nonetheless, I decide to have done, or else nothing shall ever change for either of them, and certainly not for me, and so I smirk. "Why, I've been fucking her, Potter. Is that what you wished to hear? I've put my cock in every place on Evans that I can anatomically, and she has done little but beg for more, to say nothing of the ways she has satisfied me. As a point of interest, there's not a part of your girlfriend's body that I have not used for my own pleasure and I have brought her to window-shattering orgasm more times than you could possibly dream." 

Potter lowers his wand as his face falls. 

I put my wormwood in a container and move closer to Potter, mostly because he is between me and the door, and I need to finish my potion. When I'm right next to him, I whisper to him, "And do you know why I, why _we_ have done this? Because you... _haven't._ " I hiss the last word. When I reach the door, I turn to him. "You know, for a Gryffindor, you possess an abysmal lack of courage. Probably best if you see to that." 

"You can't have her, Malfoy, she's my girlfriend."

I sigh a third time and bend my head. _Merlin, they deserve each other,_ I think. "I _have_ had her, Potter, many times. However, I have no interest in taking her from you in a romantic sense. This is a point I also made to her, seeing as both of you seem to think that breaking you up is part of some devious plan of mine, when in fact, nothing is further from the truth." I look back up at his uncomprehending face. "She's yours, mind, heart and soul: I can't fuck those parts, so I'm not interested in them, as it happens." It's a cold-blooded statement, even for me, but both he and Evans have tested my patience severely of late, so at this point, I pull no curses.

As I go to leave, Potter's huffy voice stops me one more time. "Malfoy?"

I turn, my mouth set in a line. "What?"

"You're a vile bastard." 

I raise an eyebrow. "My word...I fear I may need Murtlap Essence to assuage the agony from that pitiless burn you just inflicted, Potter. Besides, I may be vile, but it hasn't stopped Evans from coming to me, time after time." 

"Malfoy--" I can tell that he's winding up for another inadequate insult and I cut him off by holding up a hand.

"Speak with Lily, James," I say seriously. "I shall not discuss it further."

Evans finds me later in the library as I'm trying to study last-minute for NEWTs. I can see her walking up the aisle adjacent to me, see me, stop and back up, before charging me down like an escaped Erumpet. "How could you?" she hisses, putting her hands on her hips and staring daggers at me.

I'm sitting in a window seat, one foot casually up, but I close the book I'm reading, keeping my thumb between the pages to hold my place and look up at her. "It had to happen, Evans," I reply, nonplussed. "Did he break up with you?" 

She pauses for a moment before shaking her head. "No." 

"How positively superb for you both. Thus, yet again I fail to see how it's my problem." I open my book once more.

She folds her arms in front of her now, fuming. "Because you had to open your mouth, didn't you Malfoy? You couldn't leave well enough alone."

I smile. "Funny how this is the first time you've complained about what I do with my mouth."

She blushes at this. "Well..." she trails off, appearing suddenly uncomfortable and vaguely guilty. 

"Well, what?" Suddenly I feel uneasy.

"He was wondering if you might give him some advice."

"No," I say coldly, drawing a look of ire from Madame Pince. I drop my voice once more. "Absolutely not." 

"Please, Lucius." She looks at me, her eyes filled with appeal. 

The gall of Potter's request, coupled with the fact that he's sent Evans to ask me rather than putting his tail between his legs and asking me himself, makes me lose any minute scrap of respect I might have had for him. I turn to the cover of the book I'm reading, "Well," I say, "There was a book here in the Hogwarts library called _How to Sexually Satisfy Lily Evans_ , and to be honest, it told me everything that _I_ needed to know, but I think someone checked it out." I give her a knowing glance. "Was it Potter?" 

She glares at me venomously.

I smile. "It was, wasn't it?" 

"Thanks for nothing, Malfoy," she whispers, turning on her heel and leaving me smiling at her retreating form. 

**XI.**

It's three days later, and now they're both angry with me. I regret my words to both of them, but only because it means that Evans won't touch me, and I had grown rather fond of our meetings, truncated though they have been of late. In fact, she won't even look at me, at least not directly, but she's not as sly as she thinks she is and more than once, in Herbology and Potions, I catch her looking in my direction, her gaze regretful and longing. 

I'll not knuckle under to her and Potter's unreasonable demands however, not yet. I shall let them stew a few days more. On the other hand, I am not so hard-hearted not to think of Evans while I masturbate in the shower of the Prefects' bathroom during this time, and there is a part of me that does in fact, miss her. Admittedly, yes, it is the part that I stroke with grim determination as I consider how long to let Evans suffer. The truth is, I have no interest in helping Potter for multitudinous reasons, none the least of which is that he doesn't deserve it, despite what Evans thinks.

I consider all of my variables as I take my time reaching orgasm, but when I realize that the former is impeding the latter, I divert my thoughts in a more agreeable direction. I call to mind the times that Evans and I have shared each other's bodies, in the Prefects' bathroom the first time, in the abandoned greenhouse, in the storeroom of the Potions classroom and now my task becomes an easy one. I pull myself to the brink picturing Evans moving underneath me, legs, eyes, and mouth all wide with welcoming rapture at my skill. I can feel the upswing of pleasure that means the commencement of my own climax when--

"Malfoy, is that you?" It's Evans, banging on the shower door with the flat of her hand.

I curse as I open the stall door so hard it almost comes off its hinges before staring at her, no doubt with murder in my eyes.

"Frustrating, isn't it?" she asks softly, smiling cruelly. She is naked and I take her by the arm and pull her into the shower, closing the door behind me. 

As soon as we're closeted together, I drop my hand. "That was unworthy," I tell her, ice in my voice.

She folds her arms in front of her, pushing her breasts up and out towards me. It's not helpful at all in my current state. "Spare me. It's nothing you yourself haven't done. Twice."

"That's different," I say with dignity.

She snorts. "How?"

I smirk. "I'm in Slytherin. It's expected behavior. Besides..." I look at her nipples. "I had good reasons for doing so both times." 

"As do I," Lily responds, smirking as well. 

"You really think so, do you?" 

"I do," she says, reaching out to stroke my cock. 

I put one hand on the wall and close my eyes, enjoying her touch far too much. It seems I missed it more than I believed. Nonetheless, I sense I am being manipulated. Before she can bring me back to orgasm, I open my eyes. "What do you want, Lily? You've ignored me for days, so why the sudden attention?" 

She leans in and presses her breasts against my bare chest, all the while running her hand firmly up and down the shaft of my cock. "Isn't it enough that I've missed you?" she murmurs.

I gently take her wrist and pull her off my cock, even as it protests this inequitable treatment. "No," I say flatly. "Leave manipulation to myself and the rest of House Slytherin. Be straight forward." I smile. "It suits you." 

Her smile drops from her face as if the shower has rinsed it off. "I want you," she says.

"Yes, I know that," I say impatiently. "What else?"

She licks her lips. "I have a proposition for you." Her eyes light up as she says it.

"What is it?" Whether she helps or not, I want to get back to what I was doing prior to her ill-timed, or perhaps perfectly-timed interruption.

"How would you feel about having me..." She moves in and rubs her body against my aching cock.

"Completely accepting," I say, sliding my hand between her legs and cupping her sex gently.

Her breath catches. "I wasn't finished." 

"Give me a minute, Evans and you shall be," I reproach her, getting my fingers moving now.

"No, what I meant was, how would you feel about having me...at the same time that James does?"

I freeze, my fingers on her clitoris. "Huh," is all the articulation I can muster as the mental image springs to my mind of our two cocks in Evans, from one or both ends. My own erection jumps in her hand where Evans has slyly taken it back. I recover my composure presently and slide my fingers up and down the slick surface of her cunt. "And what does the lion-hearted James Potter think about this proposition of yours?" 

"He doesn't know," Evans says. "I was thinking we could surprise him."

"Some people don't like surprises, Evans." 

She frowns at me. "Such as being interrupted the second before orgasm, perhaps?" 

I pause. Damn her, she has a point. "Touché." I sigh deeply, but find it difficult to come up with an eloquent argument when she is so skillfully handling my cock, taking me back to where I was just before the aforementioned disruption. "Fine," I finally agree. "When and where were you planning to have this _menage a trois_ happen?"

"The Shrieking Shack next Hogsmeade weekend?"  
"Are you in earnest right now?" I cannot seem to keep the incredulity out of my voice as I ask the question. I find the idea of rolling around naked in the rat-infested, condemned house as its many ghosts look on less than arousing.

"Do you have a better idea?" she snaps.

I narrow my eyes, thinking. Despite the myriad bedrooms within Malfoy Manor, it's a poor choice, even with my father gone much of the time. Being that Evans is a Mudblood, sneaking her past ancestral portraits that number in the hundreds is even less arousing than getting amorous in the Shrieking Shack would be. Besides, bringing Potter there without rousing suspicion in him is questionable at best. The Three Broomsticks and the Hog's Head are too conspicuous and too filthy respectively, despite both of them having rooms to let. I sigh. "The Shrieking Shack it is," I agree resentfully. "The most haunted building in Britain."

Evans looks away from me. 

"What?" I say. 

"It's not actually haunted," she mutters. 

"And how could you possibly know that?" 

She looks pained. "I just do, all right? Please don't ask me about it more." 

Her shiftiness is slightly off-putting, but I opt to just roll with it. "Very well, Evans," I say finally, "But you had better ward it really well." 

She gives me a withering look. "Really? I should ward it, Malfoy? Is that what I should do? So, for example, that no one breaks in on us while we're engaging in sexually deviant behavior?" 

"No need to get hoity-toity with me, Evans." 

She's the one to sigh now. "I'm sorry, Malfoy, I've just been tense lately..." 

"Ah..." I smile and start moving my fingers once more. "Do you want me mitigate your stress tonight or would you like to wait?"

She moves against my hand, her lips apart slightly. "I think I'll wait," she says. 

"Are you certain?" I let my voice as well as my fingers tease her a bit.

"Yes," she says. 

I drop my hand and step away. "May I have my way with you anyway?" I see no harm in asking the question. 

She looks at me, wavering. "Fine, but make it quick," she finally says.

"As if there's any other way these days," I sigh as I move in and Evans puts her foot up on the stone corner bench. I come from underneath her, guiding the head of my cock to her entrance and slowly sliding it in, letting out a breath as I do. She moans softly as I fully encase myself in her. Despite what she says, I go slowly, savoring how she feels around me and grinding up slightly as I push into her. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and pushes back. I pull back and thrust again, and then again, incrementally increasing my pace. As requested, I don't take too long. If she wishes to delay her own gratification, I leave it to her judgment, so I bring myself back to the threshold without too much fuss, one hand under her thigh, the other on her hip. Still, she seems to enjoy it as I pound into her, groaning as I climax in her. 

I release her leg down and pull out of her, and we both rinse off in the running water. Once again, I have successfully gotten myself off, and once again, I find myself disappointed in not pleasing her. She gives me a small smile as she leaves me alone once more, closing the frosted glass door behind her. I watch her indistinct silhouette disappear as I consider our next encounter. I suppose that I have nothing to lose and it's not something that I have ever done. Should be interesting in any event.

**XII.**

The day arrives, complete with thunder, lightning and rain. The weather is actually perfect for what we have planned, mostly because scant people shall actually go to Hogsmeade and of those people, almost none will visit the Shrieking Shack. I arrive there at two o'clock in the afternoon, perfectly punctual. I've been there before, but never for this purpose, except once in Fifth Year, on a dare. The house is quiet as I step through the unlocked door. "Who's there?" Evans calls from upstairs.

"Someone with more patience than you deserve," I call to her as I climb the splintering, creaking stairs. I find Evans in the second bedroom. To her credit, she has cleaned it up beautifully with both magic and old-fashioned manual labor. The bed is level, the holes in the mattress repaired, and Evans has even made it with clean sheets. "I'm impressed, Evans," I say, assessing her efforts, "It's almost as if you want this to go well." I take off my wet cloak and hang it over the back of a chair. "Now what?" 

Her hands won't stay still. She puts them in her pockets, takes them out, runs them through her abundant hair, and then puts them back into her pockets. "James will arrive shortly," she says, her speech pressured, and I realize that she is horrendously nervous. Luckily, I anticipated this, and cross to my cloak and get something out of the pocket and hold it out to her.

"Firewhiskey?" she asks, her voice high.

I nod before taking off the cap and taking a swig, letting the alcohol burn pleasantly down the back of my throat and into my stomach. I then hold it out to her. "Take some, Evans," I say.

"It's against the rules," she says.  
I snigger and take another drink. "As opposed to using the Shrieking Shack for such a depraved purpose?"

She looks at me frostily. "We're all over 17, Malfoy," she responds. 

"It doesn't change the fact that it's probably not something you wish to be shared around," I point out, holding the bottle out once more.

Evans purses her lips and then takes the bottle from me. She takes a ladylike sip and then starts coughing. 

"Take another," I order.

Eyes watering, she does, suppressing her cough this time. "That one was easier," she says.

"I'm so pleased to hear it. Take another." 

She does.

I sit on a chair, lean back, hook one finger in my Slytherin tie and loosen it, all while fixing her with a vulpine stare, undressing her with my eyes. She blushes and presses her knees together. "Before we start, a question, Evans," I say.

"Yes?" she says, her voice hoarse. 

I gesture for her to take another pull from the bottle and she does. "When Potter gets here, would you like me to take charge?" 

She nods. "Yes please," she says. The tension is starting to leave her finally as the alcohol starts to work. 

"My pleasure," I say. I cross one leg over the other at the ankle. "We can start now, if you wish. Give me back the bottle." She comes over to me and hands it over. I take another swig, never taking my eyes off of her. "Now strip." 

"He's not here yet," she protests, and yet she is already undoing her Gryffindor tie.

"I never suggested otherwise and it couldn't possibly matter less at this juncture." I put an undercurrent of threat into my next words. "I said, strip now." 

Her eyes wide, she takes off her tie, unbuttons her white shirt and slips out of it. The bra is next, her breasts coming free and her nipples hardening in the cool air. She then drops her skirt. Last is her underwear, and then she stands before me nude. I let my eyes drift over every inch of her as I watch the rise and fall of her breasts increase with her breathing. Already she seems aroused, and my cock starts warming in seeing this and imagining what might happen next.

As she has been undressing for me, I've subconsciously started rubbing a thumb against my lip, but now I stop and open my hand towards the bed. "Get on the bed," I say. "On your back." 

She responds quickly, lying back on the newly made bed. "Now what, Malfoy?"

"Now wait." 

She sighs.

"If you're bored, imagine what having two cocks in you at the same time is going to feel like, in your mouth and your cunt, perhaps, or even in your cunt and your arse." 

"At the same time?" Again, her voice is high, from anxiety or excitement, it's hard to gauge, possibly both.

"Why, yes, Evans: that's the entire point."

She licks her lips and I catch her hand starting to move over her breast to touch the nipple. "Stop it," I snap. "That's not fair to me or to Potter."

She starts guiltily and looks at me before slowly dropping her hand back to the bed. I undo the cuffs of my own shirt and roll up the sleeves. I then take another drink and lean my elbow over the back of the chair, watching Evans and heeding the advice I just gave her in picturing what is to come. Before too long, we hear footsteps on the stairs and then the unmistakable zing of a Snitch's wings. "James," Evans says breathlessly, moving to get up.

"Don't move," I say. "Stay where you are. I told you to wait."

She presses her lips together and lies back once more, chastened. 

"Lily?" I hear Potter call as he reaches the top of the stairs. I shoot Evans a look of warning not to say anything; as slow as Potter is, he'll figure out where she is soon enough. The Snitch enters the room first, zooming across the ceiling like an overgrown dragonfly. After a heartbeat, Potter appears at the threshold of the door, sees us, and a range of emotions cross his face: unalloyed lust in seeing her waiting naked for him on the bed, incredulity and then anger in seeing me also waiting, and finally settling on suspicion. "What's this?" he finally demands.

I smile at him, not moving. "Your blushing bride awaits, Potter," I say. "Take her in a manly fashion, if you would."

He blinks at me before scowling. "Was this your idea, Malfoy?" he asks. 

I shake my head and give him a reproachful look. "It most certainly was not. I am here at the request of, and as a favor to, a mutual friend." I gesture at the naked Evans on the bed, who watches us intently. "She wants you to fuck her, Potter," I say quietly, "and I hear a rumor that because I have already done so successfully, you want my advice in how to do it. Thus, I am here to guide you."

His look of suspicion returns. "What's in it for you?"

I shrug. "The same thing that's in it for you, I would imagine: Evans' willing, naked body and all the delights it presents."

Potter swallows as if his throat is dry. I finally stand and offer him the bottle. "Take a drink, Potter," I say. His eyes still on Evans, he takes the bottle and drinks deep. 

"So...do I go first then, or do you?" he asks, looking delightfully ill at ease.

"Oh no, Potter, you misunderstand," I say. "No one is going first: we're going to go at the same time, out of... _mutual respect_." I put the slightest ironic emphasis on my last two words, but the effect is lost on Potter, who now looks at me in alarm.

"W-what do you mean?" he asks.

"Well," I explain carefully, taking him by the shoulder and leading him over to the bed. "Evans wants me to fuck her as well and so it was her idea to have us at the same time."

Potter looks at Evans now, his eyes full of doubt. Evans nods, looking from me to him. "It's true, James," she says. "If you're game."

"Kiss him," I tell Evans. She gets up on her knees and takes Potter's face with her hands, before pressing her lips to his. He kisses her back. After a moment, Evans opens her lips under Potter's and slips her tongue in. Potter greets it with his own, slipping an arm around her and drawing her close. Evans breathes in deep through her nose, pressing her entire body to him. "Undress him," I tell her. She looks at me for a brief instant before pushing Potter's cloak off of him. She makes quick work of the rest of it, removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt before pushing it off of his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Potter helps with the bottom half and now they both are naked.

They resume kissing once more. "Potter, touch her breasts," I say softly. I am starting to strip now, myself, knowing that it's just a matter of time before I have to step in. It's sooner than I thought as Potter looks at me helplessly. I finish removing my clothes, roll my eyes and move over towards Evans. I stand next to Potter and Evans looks from my cock to Potter's and back. "Patience, Evans," I say. "You'll have that soon enough. Kiss me." She presses her mouth to mine now and I slip her my tongue, rolling it over her lips as her breathing speeds up. I slip one hand up her ribcage and then to her breast, cupping it in my hand and teasing the nipple with one thumb, rubbing it and moving it in a circle. "You try, Potter," I say, moving out of the way.

Potter takes my place kissing Evans, and moves both hands up, running his thumbs over her nipples and letting them spring gently back. Evans moans and presses her pelvis against him. "Very good," I say. "Now, in my vast experience, I can tell you what she wants, but what do you want to do to her?"

Potter breaks away, now breathing hard. The head of his cock has already started to bead with pre-cum. "I want to suck her nipples." His voice is tight with arousal and he yet he sounds calmer and more self-assured than when I caught them under the Quidditch stands.

I look at Evans. "You heard him," I say, "lie on your back so we can both have a turn." She does what I ask. I climb on the bed on her right side and Potter goes to her left, his eyes tracking me. I cup Evans' breast in my hand and then lower my mouth to her nipple. I lick only at first, encircling the sensitive point with my tongue before drawing it into my mouth and sucking it. Potter mimics me and Evans closes her eyes and arches her neck back, having never before experienced this dual sensation. 

I come off of her breast with my mouth, but continue to fondle her now-wet nipple with my fingers, pinching lightly. "She likes what you're doing to her, Potter, but there's only one way to tell for certain," I say. He stops and looks at me. "You have to see if her cunt is getting wet." He moves his hand down her belly towards her spread legs. I shake my head. "No," I say, "you've gotten in trouble down there with your hands in the past."

He looks at me, annoyed. "What do you suggest, then?" 

I raise an eyebrow. "I said, 'look,' Potter," I reply. I address Evans now. "Spread yourself for your boyfriend," I tell her. Evans moves her hands between her thighs and moves her labia apart. I move between her legs and beckon Potter down. "What do you see?" I ask.

Potter swallows. "It looks..." 

"Yes?"

He shakes his head with wonder. "It looks pink and wet," he says.

I smirk. "Does it look like somewhere you'd like to stick your cock?"

Potter nods. "Yes," he says, shifting his weight as if he's going to move.

"Well, you can't, not yet at any rate," I stop him. "We're in this predicament because you don't know your way around Evans' nether region." 

Potter sighs and looks once more at Evans' pussy. I draw my finger down Evans' clit and her entire body twitches. "This is her clitoris," I explain to Potter. "It's the center of her pleasure."

"Huh," says Potter, unaware that he is mustering a similar level of expressing himself as I did earlier.

"That's nothing, Potter. Kiss it." 

Potter lowers his lips to Evans' sensitive bud, pressing them there for just a moment. Evans groans and her buttocks tighten, pushing her pelvis against his mouth. 

"See?" I ask.

"Yes," Potter says, his voice full of awe. 

"Far more sensitive than either you or I can dream of, meant to be treated with the utmost tenderness and patience. Observe." I move in now and kiss Evans' clit as well, pulling it up into my mouth just for a moment as she gasps. I then use my tongue on her, running it across her clit, pushing it back and forth before sucking it once again. "You try."

Potter takes my place and gently tongues Evans clit, moving it in a circle before sucking gently. Evans rewards him with a shaky breath. Potter looks at me inquisitively. "Don't stop," Evans and I say at the same time. Potter goes back to her and repeats what he has been doing. Evans runs her hands through Potter's messy black hair as he tentatively eats her out. I move back up to Evans' breasts and start licking her nipple once again, playing with the other while Potter remains between her legs. "Put your finger in me, James," Evans says between gasps. I raise an eyebrow; Potter is doing better than I thought. Potter looks back at me. "Best do as she asks," I advise him. Potter slides one finger into Evans' wet slit and she starts moving her hips against him. 

"Go ahead and fuck her with it; it's what she wants," I say. Potter nods and starts drawing his finger in and out of her, all while pulling her clit into his mouth, his finger making slippery noises in Evans' eager pussy as Potter picks up the pace. While he is engaged with this task, I kneel on the bed next to Evans' head and gently tilt it to the side. "Suck," I tell her. Without hesitating, she takes my cock in her mouth, pushing against me and then pulling back. I ease myself in and out of her mouth as she makes little rhythmic noises against me. The noises increase in intensity and frequency as Potter speeds up. Evans adds in a hand now to, stroking me through the abundant lubrication she has given me already. I can see Potter moving his forearm, pumping his finger in and out of her as he fervently gives her head, no doubt encouraged by her response to him. Evans' ribcage tightens and relaxes and when she comes, her cries are muffled by my cock in her mouth. The sounds she makes vibrate against my entire shaft. It feels incredible. Potter, startled, at least has the presence of mind not to stop, but to let Evans ride it out, pressing herself into his lips.

When Evans relaxes, I slip my cock back out of her mouth once more. "Now that you've gotten her ready for me, Potter, I'm going to take her cunt." 

Potter comes out from between Evans' legs, frowning. "And what am I supposed to do?"

I bite back a jibe about his lack of imagination and instead ask, "What would you like to do?"

Potter thinks for a moment, his eyes raking over Evans' primed body. "I'd like her to suck my cock too." 

I smile. "A worthy, enviable choice, but why don't you tell me and not her?" I move between Evans' legs and use my knees to gently press her thighs wider. She spreads for me as I guide the head of my cock to her waiting pussy. Potter has made her even wetter and I slip in easily, feeling the walls of her pressing warm and tight around me. 

Potter watches me, fascinated, as I pull back and then push forward again, grinding up just slightly. He then remembers himself and makes his way to the head of the bed, kneeling next to Evans. Without prompting, Evans starts stroking Potter, long, patient strokes that make Potter tilt his head back and close his eyes. Evans then starts in with her mouth, like under the Quidditch stands, first taking just the head, and then the shaft in her mouth as I fuck her from the other side. It's a stimulating image and I slow and then pull out completely before I climax too soon. As Evans continues to suck on Potter's cock, I go to my discarded robe and get out the Oil of Slipperiness.

I kneel on the bed once more. "Turn over, Evans," I say. She lets Potter's cock slip out of her mouth and turns over, getting on her hands and knees. "Arch your back." She does, again displaying her tantalizing rear and wet cunt for my appraisal. I beckon to Potter and he comes over to me, cock slick from Evans' ministrations. "Watch," I say. I take Evans by the hip and slide my cock into her pussy, making her moan. I push in and out a few times before applying the Oil of Slipperiness to the index finger of my right hand. As I've done before, I tease the opening of her rear with a finger as Evans pushes back against me, putting the pad of my finger against it, before slipping it in slowly. As I do, Evans whimpers. 

Potter observes with a mix of horror and interest. "She likes that?" he asks. 

"Let's ask her," I say. "Evans, do you like my finger in your arse while I fuck your cunt?"

"Oh, yes," she breathes.

"And is there anything else you would like in there?"

"Your cock...please." I pull everything out of her, now applying the Oil of Slipperiness liberally to my cock. 

I turn to Potter. "The arse takes time, patience, and a lot of lubrication, more than you might think," I tell him sternly. "This a is NEWT-level exercise and thus, not to be undertaken lightly." Potter nods. Slowly, I press my cock against Evans' anus, using one hand to guide and the other to hold her hip still to have something to push against. I slide into her slowly until I am in as far as I can go and she lets out a trembling sigh. "Now for the challenging part."

" _That_ wasn't the challenging part?" Potter sounds incredulous. 

I ignore him and slip out of Evans once more, before I address her. "I'm going to lie down and we're going to do that again, but this time you must do the work." She nods before moving to the side so I can lie down, using the headboard and a few pillows so I'm not completely flat on my back. "Face away from me," I tell her. She squats over me, giving me a few strokes to distribute the lubrication once more and then sits down, letting every inch of my cock slip into her arse. "Now," I say, my lips close to her ear, "let's show Potter what he's been missing." I lean her back against me and draw her legs up, fucking her arse slowly as I do. She bites her lip and spreads her legs wide.

Potter watches us, his eyes filled with longing and his mouth slightly open. I can see Potter's cock throb with each beat of his heart. I release one of Evans' legs and she keeps it up so I can put my hand down and spread her labia with them. "See, Potter?" I say softly as I let my finger push Evans' swollen clit back and forth, "Plenty of room for you as well. She's waiting for you, cunt wet and tight, just begging for your cock to fill it." 

"Please, James," Evans says, her breathing rapid, "I want both of you in me." 

Potter moves between her legs, straddling one of mine for leverage. He rubs the head of his cock on Evans' clit, making her tilt her head back, before slowly gliding into her. I moan too as he does this, as suddenly Evans has become tighter and I can feel Potter's cock moving against my own between the slim wall separating us. I start to move as well, complementary to Potter and slip my hand back up to Evans' breast, stroking her nipple with my thumb before massaging it between my fingers. She keens with pleasure as we move faster, both of our cocks filling her. I know none of us can possibly last long in this remarkable position and Evans comes first, squeezing her eyes tight and letting the soft moaning turn into full-throated screaming. Potter comes within seconds of her, grunting, his face in a grimace and every tendon in his neck standing out. I come last, digging my fingers into Evans' hip and pressing my own hips hard against her.

Potter pulls out of her and then Evans rolls off of me, both of them still breathing hard. I put my hands behind my head and smile. "Shrieking Shack indeed," I say. 

Evans smiles back at me. "Thanks, Malfoy," she says.

Potter looks at me as well, not smiling, but not unfriendly either. "Yeah, thanks, Malfoy," he echoes.

"Any time." I roll up, dry myself off and get dressed. As for Evans and Potter, they still are lying in the bed, entwined in each other's arms, looking in each other's eyes in that soppy manner of teenage couples. They are by now done with me, which is fine for the time being. I pull on my cloak and leave without saying goodbye. The Snitch follows me down the stairs before deciding, like its owner, that it doesn't need me before zipping back up the stairs to the satisfied couple. 

I pull on my cloak and head into the quiet May rain. I draw my wand and cast Impervius on my shoes so I can walk unsullied down the muddy lane back to Hogsmeade. As I walk, I reflect upon the last few weeks. I suppose in the right light, Lily Evans is moderately attractive, and her personality is tolerable at times. I further suppose that Potter is not a total loss and perhaps has some potential as her lover. But I'll not hold my breath and I shall lie in wait for when Evans wants someone of true talent to pleasure her. Someone ought to fuck her properly and I'm fine with taking on the responsibility. I am, after all, a gentleman and an aristocrat. 

_FIN._


End file.
